


Faoladh

by TheUnkindledQueen



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 15:37:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 52,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20311894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUnkindledQueen/pseuds/TheUnkindledQueen
Summary: On the night of a full moon, a survivor is brought back after a vicious attack. An incident happens and the two doctors are brought together in a way they never believed possible.





	1. The Howling

**Author's Note:**

> "A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world."
> 
> \- Oscar Wilde
> 
> "I am neither man nor beast, sir. You'll find women are far more difficult to frighten."
> 
> ― Emma Hamm, Heart of the Fae

~O~

An eye, wide, bright blue and distinctly inhuman, stared raptly between wooden slats, part of a large crate; it darted from side-to-side, alert to the surrounding group of men clothed in protective body armor. It was quiet for a moment, all but the dull sounds of chatter around the crate from the surrounding people as they were busy at work that evening.

The crate was pushed forward toward a stone-fenced structure, towering over an enclosed section of the facility. There was a guard tower at one end of the fence and a guard stationed with a shock rifle. He immediately set the weapon to the highest charge, tensing where he stood.

"What is that?" he whispered, to another guard approaching him.

"Hell if I fucking know," the other guard answered, shaking his head, "Actually, I don't want to fucking know. Just get it inside the lab, alright? She had to have it moved from the other facility and I don't want to hear her bitching at me about it if something goes wrong."

"Oh yeah. That smug little voice of hers. How's it go again?"

The guard put on the most convincing feminine drawl he could muster complete with an imitation of an Irish accent. "'Your incompetence bores me'."

The two shared a laugh.

"Alright now, pushers move in. Loading team move it!" someone shouted below.

The movement eventually agitated whatever was inside the crate, and soft snarls echoed from inside. The guards kept their distance from it, all the while still ready with their shock rifles should it be necessary to use them. The change in behavior was sudden and everyone was on guard.

"I still don't get why they hired her..."

"Me neither. But she's doing Gods work, or some shit like that. Ain't my business."

A green light on the side of the doors connecting the crate to the fence lit up, showing the necessary contact had been made. They heard the sound of a thinly veiled accented voice below, chattering to someone regarding the safety of her dearest pet project.

Of course. Dr. O'Deorain.

There was sudden loud, angry snarl from the inside the crate and she gave the crate a light pat with one hand. "Stop it," she chided, annoyed by the noise, "That isn't helping anyone."

She spoke to whatever was inside as if it were a petulant child instead of a potentially dangerous test subject, took down several notes before disappearing back into the facility with her test subject.

Well, her work continued on.

O

The hyper-train screamed down the tracks at top speeds.

Jesse had found his way inside, grinning at two Talon troopers with their rifles pointed at his head. He raised two hands in false surrender for a moment; then, he pointed at one of them.

"Hey, you look familiar." he said, "Ain't I killed you before?"

The two troopers glanced at each other only for a moment, perplexed by the overconfident man standing there, clearly outnumbered. Jesse just grinned, pulled out his weapon in lightning speed and took two shots at their heads, dropping them to the floor.

_"Jesse..."_ came the mildly annoyed voice of Angela Ziegler from his comm unit, _"What are you doing out there? You were supposed to be here for Lena's birthday! It's today, remember?"_

Jesse grunted as another Talon trooper rushed at him with an infuriated shout. He grabbed the man's arm, twisted and forced it behind his back with a loud cracking sound; it drew a shout of pain from the Talon trooper, "I'm on my way at the store now!"

Angela couldn't help but laugh a little, despite the annoyance still lingering in her voice. _"You know I can hear gunfire, yes?"_

Jesse grinned, beckoning to another trooper stepping through the door. "I'm AT the checkout line as we speak."

_"Auch der lieber...You are the worst possible liar,"_ Angela said, unable to stop laughing when she heard the sounds of struggle. _"Well, please return in one piece before we start the cake. Emily will be here from London at five. I don't have much time to have the infirmary prepped should you break a few bones."_

Jesse looked up, moments as several other Talon operatives started to pour into the cabin after him. Oh, well it would definitely be a fun afternoon; more fun for him, anyway. "Five. No problem." he said, with a cocky smile on his face.

Meanwhile, Angela had set up a few decorations inside the conference room for the birthday party in question. She was aided by Winston, who was more than happy to help reach the higher corners to attach the streamers.

"...I sent out invitations to everyone." Angela finished saying to him. "When Lena arrives, I would have hoped none of them would be late. A birthday is important."

Winston gave a low laugh. "Ah well. Better late than never. It'll be good to have everyone here again together. Maybe O'Deorian will crawl out from her basement to socialize with us surface dwellers."

Angela's thoughts went to the other woman once Winston had brought up her name. Her smile disappeared slightly in deep thought. It wasn't as if she hadn't wondered about her. After all, Moira was a peculiarity among them and rarely making any appearance from her basement laboratory. She preferred to keep herself isolated and buried in her work constantly. In passing, she would acknowledge them rarely with a report, but disappeared once again when she was done. It had often gone by unnoticed by the others, who just accepted that was how she was. Many of them found her presence to come with a bit of unpleasantness.

Genji had arrived a few hours later, carrying a box beneath his arm. He brightened when he saw Angela and approached her, giving a little bow. Angela smiled up at him and studied his armored form.

"Ah! You seem well, Genji." she said.

"I am a better man, certainly. I have some chocolates for you." he told her. He added rather sheepishly. "...Not Swiss."

Angela took the box and shook her head with a small sigh, but her voice was lit with amusement. "I suppose it will have to do. Thank you, Genji."

The two could hear familiar chatter coming from down the corridors now. It sounded like Torbjörn and Angela stuck her head out of the conference room and sure enough, the man was walking toward her, arms full of wrapped presents. He smiled broadly and squeezed his way passed her.

"Ah! A birthday! What a treat! To think I almost missed it!" he said.

"Well, we're glad to have you here. How is Ingrid?"

"Still good! The rest of the family asks about you. You should stop by and visit!"

Angela smiled. "Very well. I do miss them."

When everyone had finally arrived and waited for Lena in the conference room, it didn't take long before they could hear Lena and Emily's conversation from the corridors. Lena's voice had grown louder as she arrived at the doors. She was talking with Lúcio.

"Hey, you and Emily wanna hit the slopes some time?" he asked.

Lena laughed. "Absolutely! If you think you can keep up with us!"

The moment she opened the door, she was welcomed with a collective of "SURPRISE" from everyone there, startling her. She laughed, delighted and was embraced by Emily, who kissed her cheek.

"Happy birthday, love." she said, in her ear.

Lena grinned at her. "You knew?"

Emily chuckled. "Of course I knew."

Lena looked toward the table and brightened at the sight of a rather impressive cake sitting there; decorated with red and green icing. "Ooh! Is that cake? Did you buy it or did Ingrid make it?"

"Ingrid made it! She worked all morning!"

While the party was underway, Angela couldn't help but notice Moira walking the corridors, carrying a handful of folders in her arms. She furrowed her brow, remembering that she had invited her to come to the party, but no response had been given. The others had told her "Good luck with that, Angela. Moira O'Deorain wouldn't waste her precious time". Still, it didn't hurt to try anyway. She had wanted to finally have a chance to talk with her after spending so much time together in the same facility.

Moira hadn't looked back at the conference room and what was going on. She was preoccupied with her papers, her brow knotted with focus. She seemed displeased about something, but it didn't last as she turned to go, but stopped and her eyes met Angela's.

She tilted her head, flicking her gaze away to focus on the festivities inside the conference room. It seemed to perplex her for the moment; maybe she had forgotten that it had even been happening. Angela looked at her, eyes holding a question and she gestured in front of her.

_Come. Join us?_

Moira almost - ALMOST - seemed to consider it given the way she looked at Angela with a peculiar wonder. Then, she thinned her lips and flinched at the chaotic sound of yelling from Lena and Lúcio - taunting one another about their sheer speed - before shaking her head and walking back the way she had come. Angela leaned back in her chair, watching her depart before she sighed, disappointed.

Well, that was a shame.

Genji and Winston were sharing a conversation together over cake. "I always liked working with you, Winston. No awkward small talk."

Winston smiled forcefully. "Always liked working with you, too." he told him. "You have a..." He lingered on the words he wanted to say before adding lamely. "...great sense of humor!"

Angela snickered and shook her head. Well, either way, at least the party was a success and most of them had come to spend the time together. God only knew how long it had been. She had missed everyone dearly and wanted to catch up.

"Hey! Did you guys hear howling last night?"

"Yeah. Probably a dog, or something."

"Sounded close."

The chatter between her friends went by ignored as Jesse walked his way into the conference room, burned on several parts of his body. He looked absolutely proud of himself and he hummed a song, carrying a package under his arm.

Angela rose, studying his condition with a rueful smile. "Jesse. It's passed five. And... Oh! You're burned up!"

"Yep. But I got a present!" Jesse said, holding up the box with a broad smile on his face.

"Honestly. My work is never done..." Angela muttered.

"I'm all good, doc. No need to worry."

He promptly set it down in Lena's lap and she eagerly tore it open.

Angela couldn't stop thinking about why Moira wouldn't join them, but perhaps she could have been a little put off by the noise and chatter from everyone else. She knew that the older woman wasn't the most social of them and she had her focus on her work; but still. Sometimes duties could be put on hold for friends. After all, that's what they were, yes?

Behind her, Lena was delighted with the gift that Jesse had brought back for her; two brand new plasma pistols. She twirled them in her fingers a few times.

"Thanks, Jesse! They're brilliant!" she said.

One of the pistols discharged, sending a blast of plasma through the glass of the window in a deafening shatter. Everyone scattered from the shot and Angela had ducked beneath the table, narrowly missing it.

"Oops." Lena murmured, with a little laugh.

Angela shook her head, then turned her focus to Jesse. "You. Infirmary. Now."

O

There was that howl that evening.

Angela was walking passed the mess hall when she heard it. What a strange, somber noise coming from an animal. For some reason, it gave her a bit of pause. Then, she tilted her head up with a thoughtful murmur and then glanced over toward the archives door she saw Moira asleep at one of the tables, a bottle of whiskey nearby and an empty glass in her hand.

She frowned, walked into the archives and approached her, immediately welcomed by the powerful scent of the whiskey. The soft snore from the woman sleeping made her chuckle and she reached up with one hand, gently rubbing Moira's back.

"Dr. O'Deorain?" she said.

Moira grumbled softly and Angela shook her again.

"Dr. O'Deorain." she repeated, a little firmly now.

Moira snapped awake abruptly, jolting up with a startled gasp. Her movement startled Angela as well and she leaned back a little to give Moira a moment to become aware of her surroundings. She blinked several times, looked around the archives and took a moment to focus on everything around her. Angela gave her some space and waited before Moira rubbed her face with one hand.

"Hmm, what time is it?" Moira asked, glancing up at her briefly.

"It's midnight," Angela told her. "Are you all right? How much have you had to drink?"

Moira furrowed her brow at the question. She snorted with amusement and glanced at the bottle. "Well, I needed a little quiet after today." she replied, with a dry chuckle. "So...enough for that, at least."

"The caves weren't silent enough for you?"

Angela couldn't help but joke, but Moira didn't appear to appreciate the jibe, or at the very least, didn't understand it. Her brow knotted and she glanced at her. Angela noticed her frown and explained.

"It's a shameless joke among the others," Angela explained.

"I see." Moira rolled her eyes. If she was insulted, she didn't show it much. "Well, I suppose I'll return to the cave, then."

She started to rise from her chair, but swayed a little on her feet and nearly lost her balance, if not for Angela attempting to steady her with two hands against her back. The last thing she needed was for the older woman to fall and split her head on the table corner.

"Are you sure you should walk?" Angela asked. "I can help you."

"Yes, I'm more than capable." Moira replied, with a small edge now.

Angela heeded her words and backed away from her, still staying within a suitable distance in case Moira did fall and hurt herself. The older woman was making her way to the door when Angela warned her.

"Dr. O'Deorain, I think you should - "

"I'm fine."

But Moira had looked back at her and the moment she faced forward, she had a face-first collision with the door.

O

Moira was sitting in the infirmary, annoyed with the fact that her head was leaned back by the doctor and her nose covered with a cloth. Perhaps it was also embarrassing to have run into the door and make such a spill in front of her colleague. Angela watched her, shaking her head slowly and Moira rolled her eyes. Angela wouldn't have such a look from her.

"Oh, don't look at me that way," Angela chided, "I tried to warn you about the doorway."

Moira started to sit up, but Angela scolded her again with a finger pointed at her. "Ah! No, keep your head back. Like that." She guided Moira's hand with the cloth right back against her nose.

When she was sure that Moira was going to comply this time, she moved to the nearby sink to wash her hands, murmuring in snippets of German before she returned to Moira. She gently peeled the cloth from her hand and leaned in close to study Moira with a thoughtful sound. Moira blinked at her a few times, her free hand kneading absently at the arm rest of the chair.

The room felt warm. How strange. It was usually so cold.

Distracted. Of course. Angela assumed she would be. It was obviously quite embarrassing to her at how she had collided into the door that way. The mismatched gaze staring at her seemed to be searching for something, but Angela missed it as she gently gave Moira's nose a little squeeze against the bridge with two fingers.

It made the older woman hiss sharply with a curse.

"Hmm, well, it isn't broken." Angela replied, pleased. "And you seem sober enough to return to your quarters to rest."

"I still have work to finish."

"No. It's midnight and I'll not have you harm yourself worse than this."

There was that howling again. Angela paused, glanced up and grunted thoughtfully. Moira noticed it took as she looked focused more on the noise instead of the conversation. She looked to her left, frowned a little and Angela watched her, curious by the sudden change.

"I appreciate your time, Dr. Ziegler. Excuse me." she said.

Angela started to protest, but Moira was already standing and leaving the infirmary. She raised her hands with a grunt of disbelief before sighing and turning her focus to the chair Moira used to occupy.

Well, so much for that.

"Well, don't listen to me, then." Angela muttered, to herself, "After all..." She took a long inhale. "I am only the doctor."

It had been the first time she'd really had such a long conversation with Dr. O'Deorain, though not in the best circumstances. She had wished that she could have spoken to her more often.

Before she could leave the infirmary herself, she heard the howl pierce the air again.

The following morning, the mess hall was bustling with chatter from Overwatch operatives.

Angela was making her way to the microwave in the corner of the mess hall and she huffed impatiently, opening the door and noticing the microwave was littered with remnants of what looked like cheese.

"Ah, who didn't clean this?" she snapped. She sighed, reaching for paper towels sitting on the nearby counter. She muttered in irritated streams of German as she tore a bit of paper towels from the roll and began to clean the inside. "Wasteful. Absolutely barbaric..."

She glanced up briefly, noticing Moira and Ana Amari walking into the mess hall, talking with one another.

"...I heard that at the airport and he isn't not even here?" Ana said, disappointed.

Moira sighed, shaking her head. "He sends his apologies."

"I would have appreciated a phone call, at least."

"He had to leave early to be with his daughter. She's sick, as I understand. They don't know how long she has left." Moira stopped at a vending machine and reached into her pocket for a few coins.

"Hm. I'm sorry to hear that." Ana replied, evenly now. She looked remorseful. "All the technology at our disposal and we still haven't found the means to cure cancer."

"Yes." Moira sounded thoughtful. "One day, perhaps. Science is always changing."

She looked up, spotting Angela having been watching them for a long time during the entire discussion. She gave a thin, half smile in response before leaving the mess hall with Ana.

Moira returned to her laboratory; a collective mess of various books, tools and cages filled with mice all over tables and shelves. Several rabbits were also housed along the walls in glass cases. The only sound in the lab were the little chewing noises from the animals.

She immediately buried her attention into a microscope, studying the cells moving in the little glass slide; black splotches of infection engulfing the bright red blood cells.

Moira murmured thoughtfully, impressed by the sight. "Hm. Curious..."

What wonders her little project would yield.


	2. Ill Met by Moonlight

~O~

Teeth gnashed.

Fangs snapped.

Blood-soaked fur pressed against the glass.

Moira watched the glass of the holding cell calmly as the silver-haired creature housed within consumed the meal of fresh, ox meat she had provided. It was hungry, tearing into it with its razor-sharp teeth. She occasionally scribbled notes down and listened to the peculiar changes in the snarls; the sense of human awareness on its face, the way it watched her with purpose. It was so utterly fascinating to witness such an animal, built like a human. Whatever it was, it was nothing like any creature she had ever seen before. She had been lucky to have found it.

She had resorted to old books from the archives, which - thankfully - Dr. Ziegler had not seen her studying. Many of the stories suggested what it could have been, but she wouldn't give it much credence until she had more to go on.

Moira's hand absently rubbed her tender nose when her mind went to the other woman. The little sting of pain reminded her of what had happened last night and the embarrassing incident of running into the door like a fool. She hadn't expected to see her, nor expect such care from her.

Most of the staff above avoided her, which was fine.

It wasn't like she had anything else she had to focus on. Her work took precedence over the social norms of Overwatch.

She held up a transparent slide, detailing an ancient wall carving of a man with the head of a wolf, studying it in the dim light of the laboratory. It was old, perhaps dated back to the time of the ancient Celtic tribes of Rhaetia. Moira recognized such histories from her younger days during her studies. It would certainly require further study on her part.

But even as she attempted to focus on this, her mind once more went unbidden to Dr. Ziegler and she furrowed her brow, shaking the frivolous distraction aside.

A low, muffled growl from inside the cell snapped her out of the thought. She looked up at the creature housed within the cell. It had finished its meal and sat there in the corner, still watching her with that human-like awareness.

Moira smiled and leaned closer, her face near the glass. It's wolf-like features were so very animal, yet so very human all at once. Such an unusual, fascinating sight that Moira had never seen before. Its bright blue eyes were wide, angry and its sharp teeth bared, breath fogging up the glass on the other side of the woman with every little panting sound.

They would certainly not like the idea of a creature such as this within Overwatch walls. Most of her experiments had been deemed far too radical and unethical to most; Moira was aware of the disdain for her and her work. But she took these risks necessary to advance human evolution and anyone who saw otherwise simply stood in the way of progress.

It abruptly snarled, slamming its weight into the glass, causing Moira to jump back with a startled sound. She sighed, raised her hand to a bright red button beneath a glass cover nearest the observation window. Flipping it, she pressed her hand onto the button and the cell was immediately engulfed with a bright-blue electrical discharge.

Agonized roars and howls burst from the creature and it fell onto its back, writhing against the current charging through its body. Moira watched the sight impassively for a few moments, holding the button down for what she felt was a suitable time to punish it for its impudence. When she pulled her hand from the button, the creature rolled onto all fours, snarling and spitting with wrath.

When it moved to throw its weight against the glass again, Moira's finger hovered over the button and it immediately froze where it crouched, eyes dancing between her and the button. Moira tilted her head with fascinated awe. So it learned.

Interesting indeed.

Such a curious creation.

O

Angela quickly made her way toward the elevator with her arms full of folders, mere seconds as it started to close.

"No! Hold it for me! Please!" she yelled.

A long-fingered hand shot out from the elevator and stopped the doors from closing. Angela blinked, surprised to see Moira there, wearing her lab coat, black oxford shirt and turquoise-colored necktie. She hesitated for a reason and Moira tilted her head, confused by her hesitation.

"Well?" she said.

Angela laughed sheepishly, snapping back to reality. "Yes, of course. Thank you, Dr. O'Deorain."

She walked into the elevator and Moira glanced down at her. "Which floor?"

"Oh! Imaging." Angela told her.

Moira pressed the floor number on the glowing pad and the doors closed.

The two stood in what felt like uncomfortable silence for a few moments. There was usually music playing in the elevator, but it had been broken lately and no one bothered to fix it at the moment. It felt much too quiet sometimes, but now that it was the two of them, the silence was almost maddening. Angela cleared her throat and glanced up at her with a small smile.

"You look well, Dr. O'Deorain." she said.

"As do you. Dr. Ziegler." Moira replied.

The two were silent once again. Angela cleared her throat. Moira sniffed a bit.

Angela was perplexed by how undeniably awkward it felt in the small elevator and assumed Moira might have felt that way as well, to some degree. She decided to study an x-ray from her folder to occupy herself and ease the discomfort a little. Moira glanced down at the x-ray, watching the younger woman with an inquisitive hum. Angela pressed her lips tight in thought and eventually, she sensed Moira's stare.

She laughed a little before shaking her head, gesturing to the x-ray.

"I've gone from prying bullets from patients to trying to comprehend how they can swallow things that aren't food." Angela quipped.

Moira made a small chuckle. She couldn't help it.

"A light bulb in an unfortunate orifice?" she quipped, dryly.

Angela let out a guffaw, hiding her face in her folder once. "No! God no!" she laughed. She had never heard Moira joke before, but she found that she appreciated it.

"That would be a first."

Angela giggled again. "Well, certainly not light bulbs!"

The two women shared an unusual moment of soft, even laughter before the elevator dinged, signaling Angela's place to get off. She stepped out once the doors opened and smiled back at Moira. It was certainly a small conversation, but it was nice to speak to her again.

"Hopefully, I will see you later, Dr. O'Deorain." she told her. "We really must have better conversations besides these."

"Moira."

"Angela."

Moira gave a small nod at the exchange. Nothing more was said.

Once the doors closed, her lips twitched in a smile.

She made her way to the archives once more, digging through several books, including one on Irish folklore. This one was a particular favorite of hers as a child; she remembered her days spent picking through her family's garden for specimens and reading up old stories with her grandmother. For as long as she could remember, her days were spent fascinated with science and all it entailed. But she still couldn't resist her indulgence in the old tales at times. After all, her grandmother was good at telling stories in such a fun way.

Paging through the book, she stopped at one describing the Faoladh, the werewolf of Irish folklore.

She returned to the laboratory below, approaching the cell that housed her pet project. The creature had seemed intent on pacing in the room, but paused and bared its teeth when she approached.

Moira took amusement in the thought; here, a creature that defied science and nature existing before her very eyes.

"Heh. I cannot believe I actually considered the possibility that you are what these old children's tales say you are," she said.

The creature seemed intent on the book in her hands and a deep, rumble emerged from its throat. It watched Moira with a strange sort of amused awareness and seemed to comprehend exactly what she was doing. She chuckled, setting the book down on the nearby counter before she leaned against the edge of it, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"Let's skip the pleasantries, werewolf. I know you understand me. It also seems as if you understand English well enough based on your reactions," Moira told the creature. "Your physiology is unlike any living creature I've had the pleasure of studying. I could work wonders with just your blood alone. Imagine it! The cures we could provide for the human race."

The creature huffed out a dry, rasping noise that sounded remarkably like an aggravated dog bark. Moira's smile thinned when she realized that it was actually laughing at her. She glared at the creature - this werewolf - and for a moment, contemplated giving it a few minutes of electrical therapy to silence it - to teach it some manners, perhaps.

Instead, she straightened and paced around the lab. "You regenerate cells at an increased rate to human beings. I have seen your body regurgitate bullets when you were captured in Berlin." Her voice took on a fiendish edge when she noticed the werewolf had grown silent now. "Oh, right. Berlin. You were clumsy. Arrogant. You thought you could kill them all, but you certainly didn't think that razor wire could trap you. The truly fascinating thing is that you didn't even eat them, nor use your claws. You simply...crushed them all beneath your feet. What's an animal with teeth and claws if they don't use them?"

The werewolf flattened its ears against its skull, raising itself on its haunches in an effort to look as big as it could. Moira chuckled, shaking her head with a long sigh.

_"Éasca,"_ she said, her hand hovering over the bright red button that would deliver the necessary shock, "I will allow none to stand in the way of progress, especially not an animal. You will yield your secrets to me, one way or another."

The werewolf glared down at the hand hovering over the bright red button, clearly knowing not to tamper with Moira's temptation to use it. It hissed with bitter defeat before backing away from the glass, toward the back of the cell. Growling softly, its eyes locked on Moira with hatred, but it certainly would not make any further effort to earn the punishment.

Moira lifted her head when her comm beeped at her ear and the werewolf watched her pace on the other side of the lab.

"...I see. Yes, well, I'm sure they can handle it. I have quite a bit of work I need to - " A sigh and a roll of her eyes. Then, her features smoothed out with vague interest, but quickly disappeared. "Well, if Dr. Ziegler is going to be deployed to accompany you, I don't see what purpose I can serve. I am busy with my own tasks be - " Another pause as Moira listened to the chatter on the other end. She sighed, rolled her eyes now. "Fine. I will be ready in fifteen minutes."

O

Moira adjusted the beret on her head and Angela sat across from her, watching with a small smile and a giggle she couldn't help.

The older woman glanced up at her, cracked a small, thin smile as she studied the holographic data in front of her. "Something amuse you, Dr. Ziegler?"

"No. Nothing." Angela said, with another laugh. "Is this your first time being on this ship?"

Moira made a face. "No." She hesitated now. "Third time."

Jesse, Angela, Moira, Genji and Reinhardt were being deployed to Vershinino to investigate an unusual attack in the middle of the night. It was a small farming village in Russia and there had been vague reports of casualties, but Ana had specified that they were unusual in nature. There were little details to go on, but perhaps that was why Moira was brought to investigate with them.

Still, she didn't like leaving the werewolf behind for long.

"Two minutes!" Jesse yelled, over his shoulder.

The vehicle stopped and the group filed out into the cold, quiet farmland of Vershinino. It was surrounded by metal walls, but the sconces built around it for light had been extinguished. There was an eerie silence that welcomed the operatives and they scanned their surroundings cautiously.

"There's no visible activity." Genji whispered.

Jesse chomped on his cigar. "Well, keep your eyes open. Something doesn't feel right."

The group slowly made their way into the village. Moira was studying the holographic readout in front of her and she glanced up, noticing Angela and Reinhardt talking together. She practically dwarfed the enormous man wearing his armor, but even in her Valkyrie suit and wings, the smaller woman was still a force to be reckoned with. It made Moira smile to think about it, though she didn't know why exactly. Her mind had been on the doctor for a while and it distracted her.

"Reinhardt, don't you think it's time to hang it up? You aren't getting any younger." Angela suggested.

Reinhardt laughed. "Never! I will fight to my last breath."

Genji paused at a generator that sparked wildly nearby. He ran his fingertips over several long slashes before glancing back at the others.

"The generator's been damaged," he said, "By...claws?"

Moira reacted slightly to his words. She approached the generator, ran her fingers through the grooves of the slashes that seemed to form a perfect line of her fingers. Her eyes clouded in thought.

Was there another werewolf?

No, no, that would not do. Her intent was to study the werewolf in her lab without complications or anyone else knowing what was going on. Her idea was to understand the creature, to know how it regenerated, functioned and lived in a way that could benefit the human race. The discovery of more of them would get everyone else involved and she didn't need that interference.

Jesse was busy surveying damages done to a farmhouse close to them. "Looks like hits from small-arms fire," he said, "We got some explosive damages, probably seismic survey charges."

Reinhardt sniffed the air slightly. "I smell something."

Angela looked concerned, scanning the abandoned town with her eyes. "It's blood."

"Alright. Lights on!" Jesse told them.

Headlamps lit up from their places; Moira's wrist, Genji's helmet, Reinhardt's helmet, Angela's chest and Jesse's arm. Immediately, the glow of the lights illuminated the town, revealing a massacre before them.

Bodies were strewn about, gore soaked the grass and gravel. The smell of blood was overpowering, the sight horrific and gruesome.

"God, what did this to them?" Angela whispered, her voice shaken.

She took another step and nearly slid across what appeared to be mutilated organs. She balanced herself against Genji, who caught her before she could fall.

"Thank you, Genji." she said, with a weak hiccup of laughter.

Just then, the sound of approaching footsteps immediately turned their focus - and their weapons - toward a man stumbling from the shadows. He was wearing overalls, drenched in blood and his arm looked to have been ripped into by an animal bite.

His eyes were pleading, streaked with tears as he reached out for them. _"Pohmuhsh..."_ he begged, _"Pohmuhsh..."_

Angela quickly went to his side and caught him before he could collapse. "We're here! We're going to help you!"

Jesse's eyes scanned the farmland around them. "Hey, keep an eye out, doc. Whatever attacked them might still be here."

The frightened, wounded man continued moaning in Russian, unable to understand her. Angela looked up at the others and shook her head.

"We should take him with us." she said, "He needs our aid."

"She's right." Reinhardt agreed, "He is a witness. He might know what we're dealing with."

Genji spoke into his comm. "Captain we've located a survivor. He's wounded. We need a translator prepped in the infirmary right away."

_"Of course. Thank you, Genji."_ Ana's voice filled his ear from the device at his ear.

The wounded, frightened man was trying to talk with Angela and get her to understand him, but all he could speak was Russian and Angela was already trying to fix his wounds. She truly wanted to help him more, but the language barrier hindered her efforts.

"Don't worry." she assured him, despite how useless it was. She had hoped a few warm, gentle smiles would help. "We are here to help."

It seemed to be effective if just a little. He weakly smiled in return.

O

Everyone crowded in the room as the man shared his story with the translator, who sat at his bedside.

He had been placed in a medical gown, his wounds wrapped in bandages and supplied with an IV. He had been calmed just enough to talk to them. While he communicated with her in Russian, the others listened with bated breath.

"It's so weird..." Lena said, quietly. "Who would want to hurt the people in his village?"

"It couldn't be Talon," Jesse whispered back. "I mean, I've seen them gun down civilians before, but this? No. Something ain't right about this. I got a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach."

The translator nodded to the man once and looked up at Ana while he continued to talk. "He says his name is Kliment. He works in the market during the day. It was dark, but he was out running to check on the horses. They'd been startled by something. He thought it was wild dogs."

Kliment scratched his head, continuing to mutter in frightened words. He looked around the room, confused for a moment as he struggled to comprehend the horror he had seen. The translator seemed confused as she listened to him, but didn't speak until he was finished.

"Ask him; did he notice soldiers?" Ana asked her.

The translator looked at her for a moment before she questioned what Ana had wanted her to say in Russian. He blinked sharply up at her, startled by the question seemingly, shaking his head. Then, there was a brief moment where even he seemed unsure about it. The incident had caused him great trauma and he was clearly struggling to recall what had happened.

_"Nyet. Nyet..."_ he said, softly.

He spoke a few more sentences to the woman in front of him and she nodded, thanking him in Russian before she looked up at the others. "He says he didn't see any soldiers that he could remember. Their village rarely gets any outside visitors - a few passing travelers or two and when deliveries are made. The soldiers from the army don't blink twice at them. But..."

Kliment looked haunted and he mumbled again in Russian, though his voice was tight with anguish and horror.

"He doesn't know what he saw exactly, but he heard the screams first," she continued to translate, her features troubled, "When he ran toward the church to see what was going on it..." She paused, frowning thoughtfully. "It jumped out at him so fast. Bit into him him. He was able to cut its face with a knife and it let him go. He says he crawled and hid beneath a broken van."

Angela glanced down at a nearby notepad on the table beside them and picked it up. She looked around for a pen and Moira furrowed her brow, watching her work.

"Angela?" she said.

Angela handed the book to the man and gently stroked his shoulder to comfort him. "Perhaps you can...draw what you saw?" she offered.

Funny stares from all of them.

Angela met each look and shrugged. "It's worth a try, yes?"

No one argued with her. Perhaps it would help a little.

Kliment frowned, confused and glanced at the woman beside him for a translation. She spoke what Angela said and he laughed weakly, shrugging his shoulders, speaking once again. The translator laughed a little too.

"He says he's a terrible artist, but he'll do his best." she translated.

Kliment's arm was shaking as he struggled to draw on the notepad that Angela had given him. His features were focused now, but the haunted look on his face still remained as he worked. They waited in silence until he was finished. He offered the notepad up to Ana after much hesitation when she held out her hand for it.

Everyone crowded around her to see what he had drawn.

It was a sloppy, crude sketch of what looked like a shadowed wolf's head looking down from the church steeple. Kliment had even sketched the lifeless, wide eyes that made the picture utterly eerie.

O

Moira made her way down into her laboratory, determined to get answers from the werewolf in the cell.

When she peered inside the cell, she noticed the werewolf was gone and a naked man was sitting in the corner with his back to her. She could see the long gray hair on his head and claw-like nails as he tapped them against the cold floor every so often.

"Ahh, I was wondering when you'd come back down here to meet me," he said, in a thick, Spanish accent, "Did you find the answers you were looking for, _cabra?_"

Moira smiled thinly. She kept her tone fairly neutral. "A village was attacked."

He sighed softly, still refusing to look back at her. His voice was disappointed, but still carried a bite to it. "Mm, so I heard. It was messy, so it must have been my _pendejo_ of a brother. He always liked to play with his food so much."

"Well..." Moira took a nearby chair and pulled it up in front of the glass. "Since I know now exactly what you are and what surely attacked that village, perhaps we can help one another."

The man turned to face her now.

He looked to be in his late sixties; sharp blue eyes, thick facial hair, wrinkles around his eyes and forehead. There was a long, white series of scars across his neck. A wound from claws, no doubt. Overall, he looked to be in superb physical condition and Moira speculated that perhaps being a werewolf was what gave him such benefits. She wanted to learn more.

"Let's hear it." he said.

"You're a werewolf. How is that possible?" Moira questioned. She was determined for answers.

The man continued to smile, licked his lips once. "Well, I would gladly give you all the answers you want, Doctor. But first, you do something for me."

Moira let out an amused sound. "Quite bold to be asking things from me when you're the one in the cell, mutt."

"Courtesy, such is what separates us from the animals, good doctor." he said, with a chuckle. He wasn't insulted by the crude remark. "All I want is a little water to drink. And not from a dog bowl."

Moira thought about it. Well, he was only asking for a drink. If it would make his cooperation less difficult, perhaps it would suffice.

She stood up, then approached a nearby sink, reached into the cabinet above and pulled out a glass. She turned the squeaky handles and filled the cup with water, all the while the man inside the cell waited silently. She approached a little door slot in the cell and unlocked it, pushing the glass inside and latching it.

The man smiled, took the glass and gulped down the contents as quick as he'd received them. Once he was done, he gave a long, happy sigh.

"Ah! Good! They say water from the tap is gross, but I beg to - "

"Alright, you've had your water. Now speak." Moira interrupted, with an impatient scowl.

"Well, my name is Victor. I was born the first of a litter of six wolf pups." the man explained.

Moira raised one hand to interrupt him. "Wait, you were BORN a werewolf?"

Victor looked absurdly proud for a man sitting naked in a bloodied cell. "Yes. Second generation."

Moira made a thoughtful sound and reached behind her for something to take notes with. "I see. So how long have werewolves existed and are they the only thing in folklore that exists?"

Victor shrugged his shoulders. "Hard to say. I don't meet many vampires. Well, there was one."

Moira looked up at him curiously.

He chuckled. "My family lawyer."

Moira rolled her eyes when he laughed again. It was such a strange thing to have this sort of conversation with a creature Moira hadn't believed existed until this moment. Still, she had to find answers one way or another, regardless of the circumstances.

Victor glanced upwards now and sniffed the air. "Tell me, the survivor. He is here?"

"Yes. He's in the infirmary with Ange - Dr. Ziegler." Moira said, her voice with an edge.

She was losing patience with the small talk. She wanted answers and she wanted them now.

Victor started to laugh and reached behind him to retrieve remnants of the ox flesh Moira had provided him with. He began to chew on the still-bloodied meat and he shook his head.

"It's a full moon tonight, and he was bitten..." Victor said, between bites, "And you brought him here? In a facility filled with over several hundred people?" He grinned widely now. "I was born a wolf. I can control my instincts. What do you think a bitten one's going to do?"

Moira's angry stare drained from her face. Her lips parted in horror and her eyes widened.

Just above them in the infirmary, Kliment was stirring restlessly in his bed. He groaned, skin soaked with sweat before his eyes flew open.

They were glowing a bright yellow.


	3. The Change

~O~

Claws ripped through the sheets of the bed.

Kliment gave several agonized, frightened groans; his throat swelled, his body shook with violent tremors. The moon hung full and bright over the clouds, its light shining directly into his room. He looked up at it - a feat that took great effort to do - jaw snapping sharply as it stretched and elongated with several gruesome sounds.

Thick brown fur sprouted from his skin and he ripped at it with his claws; his knees cracked brutally back in horrible sounds. Claws elongated from his nails. His groans of frightened pain began to transform into angry, deep growls.

Meanwhile, Lena was walking down the corridors, whistling in time with music playing in her headphones. She noticed Moira appear from the corner ahead of her and paused when Moira stopped in front of her. The taller, older woman sighed and pried the headphones from her ears with one hand.

"Hey!" Lena protested, snatching them back from her.

"Have you seen Dr. Ziegler?" Moira asked.

"Angela?" Lena shrugged her shoulders. "I guess she's going to the infirmary to check on the guy you brought in. Why?"

Moira was hiding a syringe behind her back, out of sight from Lena. It was filled with a dose of tranquilizer strong enough to take down a bull elephant and the same she had used on Victor below. She had hoped that she could reach the werewolf in time before it became difficult to subdue him.

"Never mind." she said, forcing indifference in her voice.

She made her way passed Lena and the younger woman waved, calling back at her. "Nice talking to you too!"

As Moira made her way down the corridors toward the infirmary with determination, she found that she was relieved to see Angela making her way down the same path. So she still had time to reach the bitten man before he changed. Hopefully. The younger woman was looking down at a few things she'd placed on a tray; food and water for Kliment, no doubt.

"Angela!" Moira said, breathless.

Angela looked up, surprised to see her. "Ah! Good! You're still here," she said, smiling in relief, "You wouldn't mind helping me with Kliment, would you? Staff went to their quarters for the evening and it would only take a moment of your time."

"I don't think going up there will be a wise idea." Moira told her. She kept her expression as neutral as possible.

Angela frowned. "What? Why?"

"Well, it's just that..." Moira started to argue.

She failed to notice the fully transformed werewolf appear from around the corner. He still dragged the IV behind him on his arm and his jaws were dripping with saliva. His eyes were wide, blood-drunk and his attention was firmly on the first thing in his path - Moira.

Angela looked beyond her and her features went slack with dawning horror.

"Angela?" Moira said, furrowing her brow. "What's the matter?"

Angela screamed, dropping her tray to the floor with a loud clatter. The werewolf snarled throatily and Moira whirled at the sound, seconds as the creature bore down upon her.

Moira's scream shattered the air as teeth and claws sank into her back, spraying blood across the pristine floor. Angela frantically rushed to the nearby fire extinguisher hanging on the wall. She smashed the glass, grabbed it and discharged foam directly into the werewolf's face.

It jumped from Moira with another roar, stumbling across the floor in a flurry of teeth and limbs. It struggled to right itself just as a gunshot rang through the air, tearing through the werewolf's left eye.

Angela looked over her shoulder at Jesse, who stood with his pistol aimed at the ready. "Hey, catch you guys at a bad time?" he hissed, with a grin.

"Jesse!" Angela exclaimed, never more relieved to see him until now.

She ducked her head down as Jesse fired again, taking another shot at the creature's face. "You best head for the hills, I'm on fire, you big ol' bag of fleas!"

The werewolf shrieked with rage, charging for him before receiving another shot directly between his eyes. With a thick, wet groan, the creature collapsed onto the floor and was still.

Moira was lying in a pool of her own blood, weakly looking up at Angela, who frantically screamed for someone to come and help. Her body was shaking, in shock from pain and blood-loss. Disoriented, wide eyes blinked and she uttered several weak grunts that sounded like attempts at words.

"Oh, God! Oh, God, we have to get her to the infirmary, now!"

"Alright, easy, doc. Don't worry, we'll make it. Let's move!"

Moira couldn't hear Angela's voice through the roaring in her ears and the stabbing agony lancing through her body. She could feel wetness against her cheeks as she was suddenly lifted and despite her fading vision, she could see Angela's face soaked with tears.

_Mmm, Angela...? You're crying? Why are you crying?_

_Stop it. You and I both know I won't be missed._

O

"Anyone want to tell me what the hell that thing was?"

Angela could barely hear the angry shouts from Jesse while she stared at Moira lying in the bed. The EKG monitors beeped steadily and her entire upper torso had been swathed with bandages. It had been a miracle as they worked to supply her with blood and clean her wounds. The miracles of Overwatch science had saved her from bleeding to death from her wounds.

But seeing her lying there, eyes closed and bandages soaked with blood gave Angela's heart a deep, visceral clench. It was so...strange seeing Moira lying there and feeling something in her that she hadn't felt before for the older woman. She was feeling helpless, unable to do anything but wait and hope that she would pull through.

"Kliment changed back..."

"...What? You mean..."

"Yes. He was that...thing..."

"What was it? I mean, it looked like a - "

"Please don't say what I know you want to say."

"What would you call it then? Looked like exactly what everyone's thinking."

Hearing Jesse argue with Genji had begun to bother Angela. She had too much running through her head right now about Moira's wounds as well as the creature that had nearly torn her apart. She sighed and looked back at them, speaking sternly.

"If the two of you will offer no further aid at this time, I'd like to be left with the doctors to keep an eye on Moira," she said. "Please."

"Of course. I will leave and give you all the space you need," Genji assured her. He placed a hand on Jesse's shoulder and ushered him from the infirmary. "Come, Jesse. Let's leave Angela to her work. We can discuss this with the Captain and the others."

"Oh, yeah. This is gonna be one hell of a discussion..."

Angela waited until they had left before she rose and glanced at the EKG, studying Moira's vitals with apprehension. She knew that Moira would make it. She knew that even after nearly being ripped apart, she would pull through and survive.

But there was something else.

She looked down at Moira's bandaged shoulder before closing her eyes, her mind riddled with images from the attack the previous night.

A flash of the creature ripping into her.

A flash of it dying by Jesse's gun.

Somehow reverting back to Kliment.

What did it mean?

No, no, it wasn't possible what Jesse was implying. There was no way it could be a...

"Angela?"

Angela snapped out of her thoughts, looking over her shoulder when she noticed Ana walking into the infirmary with a troubled look on her face. Angela relaxed with a sigh, rising to meet the Captain properly.

"Oh! Ana..." she said, wiping her face with one hand. "I thought Jesse and Genji were going to speak with you."

"Yes." Ana replied, with a dismissive wave, "Jesse's idea of discussing the situation is regaling me with ridiculous ideas of werewolves. But another time. I thought I'd stop by the infirmary to see how you were doing. Dr. O'Deorain is in good, capable hands, after all. But I am worried about you, _habibti._"

Angela nodded her head. "I'm fine, Ana. Thank you for asking."

"Of course."

Though she was absolutely shaken and disturbed by what had happened, she didn't want to think on it so much and instead, keep an eye on Moira throughout the rest of the night. Ana seemed too focused herself and she occasionally glanced beyond Angela to Moira, who slept quietly in her bed.

"I am glad to hear it, Angela. Still, I trust you will get your rest after tonight. Our security will be doubling after the creature," Ana explained, "If you see more of them outside than usual, don't be alarmed."

Angela gave a half-smile in response. Perhaps that was just as well.

She decided to leave the room only for a moment to get something to drink. The vending machines weren't the healthiest choice, but it kept her within close distance to the infirmary and Moira. She didn't want to go too far should something happen.

"Hey, Angela?" Lena was walking up to her, worry on her face. "You all right, love?"

Angela nodded her head, retrieving a can of peach tea from the machine. "Yes, I'm fine, Lena. Thank you." she replied. "It was all a shock to us."

"Do you think it's true what Jesse's saying?" Lena asked, leaning forward with a whisper. "It was a werewolf?"

"I don't know what it was."

"If it was a werewolf, I think, maybe - "

Lena started talking about werewolves and Angela was just about to take a drink of her tea when the piercing sounds of EKG monitors going off immediately froze her hand close to her face. She quickly ran back into the infirmary, finding two doctors at Moira's bedside. The older woman was seizing violently in the bed and Angela immediately acted; she began to turn her onto her side.

"Put her on her side!" she ordered. "I need Midazolam!"

One of the doctors quickly moved to retrieve what she needed without a second to hesitate. Lena watched in the doorway, shocked to silence as Moira continued to shake uncontrollably, jaw slack against the pillow. Angela watched her with anguish and reached up to take the doctor's offerings of medicine and syringe.

Lena continued to watch as Angela worked and it took only a few moments before Moira's body slowly stopped convulsing.

"Is she okay?" Lena asked, after the EKG monitor's eventually steadied.

Angela sighed heavily through her nose. "For now, yes."

She looked up at the other two doctors, frowning. She couldn't help her voice growing louder. "What happened? I was out there for a few minutes!"

"W-We don't know, Dr. Ziegler." one of them said, taken by her change in tone, "She was fine and just started to seize."

"Alright..." Angela didn't want to leave her alone. "Why don't the two of you go to your quarters for tonight. I'll stay with her."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm sure. Please."

They left without argument and Lena watched them go before she approached. Angela rubbed her forehead with one hand before she noticed the younger woman watching Moira, troubled.

"I never thought she was very nice, but...she does look a bit sad like that, huh?" she said, tilting her head. She noticed the worry on Angela's face and asked, "Do you think she's going to be okay?"

"I hope so."

O

Moira continued to sleep throughout the night and even into the next day.

She laid on her side and Angela watched the bandaged shoulder where the creature had torn into her. She thought about how Kliment had been bitten, how he had changed.

Tapping her finger against her knee, she thought about it a little more.

It was maddening.

"I cannot believe I'm even considering this..." she whispered, to herself.

Angela rose, leaned over Moira a little and delicately plucked at the bandage to see to the wounds she'd received. She wasn't ignorant to the mythology surrounding werewolves and their ability to regenerate rapidly. Maybe if she saw Moira's wounds, it would rule out that possibility.

But the moment she started to, Moira stirred with a quiet groan. She turned, her face almost too close for Angela to be properly prepared for it. It was close enough for her to feel Moira's breath against her lips and certainly enough to make her face feel warmer than she wanted.

Moira frowned dazedly, blinked and sat up. "Mmm, Angela?" she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "What... What's happening?"

She looked around the infirmary and Angela cleared her throat before shaking her head of the peculiar feeling. She focused on Moira now. "You were hurt. Nearly killed if not for Jesse. How are you feeling?"

Now that she was asked, Moira didn't seem very certain; she felt a combination of pain throughout her joints, but otherwise, she was fine. She rubbed her head, touched the bandages on her chest before she glanced at Angela. A small smile touched her lips and she managed, almost embarrassed. It was hard to picture her seizing uncontrollably or losing all that blood in the corridors...

"Fine, I think. A little hungry, perhaps." Moira admitted.

Angela smiled, trying not to think about it. "Alright. What would you like me to bring you?"

"I can find something," Moira told her, "I feel...well, actually." She smacked her lips a little before grimacing. "My mouth's dry... Actually, can I have some water?"

"Of course."

Instantly, Angela rose, walked to a nearby sink and gathered water from the faucet in a little Styrofoam cup. She brought it to Moira and the older woman gulped it down in one swallow. She looked at Angela hopefully and eagerly. The look was almost endearing if Angela hadn't been so worried about her physical condition.

"More."

Angela nodded and quickly filled up a large glass container before handing it to Moira. She took it in both hands and greedily consumed the entire contents.

The sound of her joints cracking seemed loud in the room. Though Angela was still troubled by what had happened, Moira seemed unwilling to sit for long. She was already getting out of the bed when she finished the container of water, clearly intent on getting back to normal.

"What happened?" she asked.

Angela frowned thoughtfully. "You don't remember?"

"Hm. No. I just remember that creature appearing in the corridors before it attacked me," Moira replied, her gaze distances away. Then, she held her stomach with one hand. "I'm starving. I want some food first."

Angela could see that it was best to get Moira some food in her system before she talked more about what had happened. She agreed even so; her own stomach was rumbling now that Moira had mentioned food. Maybe they both could eat a little bit.

O

Moira wore another oxford shirt, but didn't bother buttoning it to the collar as she consumed plates of food in front of her. Angela watched her with amazement, stunned to silence. Ana had been observing her as well, blinking rapidly in astonishment as Moira occasionally slurped up the water she'd gotten in a large glass container.

"It's good to see you doing well, Dr. O'Deorain." Ana told her. "I'd like to discuss the incident with you once you're finished. I expect reports from everyone."

Moira nodded. That seemed fair. She raised the glass to her lips. "What became of the creature?"

"Jesse shot it and they incinerated the corpse." Angela explained.

Immediately, Moira scowled and her tone hardened. "What? They WHAT?"

Her abrupt, aggressive tone startled Ana and Angela. It wasn't often she raised her voice in such a way and Ana's hand slowly rested at the pistol on her waist beneath the table. Angela caught the gesture at the corner of her eye, furrowed her brow and then looked at Moira.

"I don't understand," she said. "What's the matter, Moira?"

Moira realized her outburst was unnecessary. She sighed, evening her tone before she explained. Her fingers tapped the edge of the table rather rapidly.

"It...seems to be a waste of potential research," Moira explained, still with an edge in her voice even though her voice had softened somewhat, "If I was going to be attacked, I would have found it preferable to keep something to study. To...better understand the mutations caused by the creature. You understand."

"Yes, of course." Angela still glanced down at the corner of her eye to Ana.

Moira seemed to shift where she sat, impatient and suddenly with no desire to eat. "I suppose since I have no further need here, I will return to the labs," she told them. "I have work to do."

It was strange that Moira had all desire to return to her work even after the attack. Angela started to argue with her, but Moira hadn't acknowledged the protests and left the mess hall. Once she was out of earshot, Angela turned to Ana and the older woman sighed when she read the stare.

"She was bitten, Angela," she said, quietly. "Kliment was bitten before we brought him here. I understand Jesse's ideas may be a bit...far-fetched, but we shouldn't rule out the possibilities that Moira could change like Kliment did."

"So you're going to shoot her?" Angela was tormented by the thought.

Ana didn't particularly enjoy it either. "I will do what I must to protect those around us, Angela. I don't take pleasure in that possibility."

"We don't even know if she'll change!"

Ana stared at her, somewhat taken by her tone. Still, she exhaled patiently and continued. "Angela. We will continue to monitor every action Dr. O'Deorain takes."

"What if you're wrong?"

"I will cherish such a thought."

"There has to be another way! We can't just shoot Moira on an idea!"

"Of course not. But we must be prepared for anything."

It was dangerous. Angela had felt a glimmer of doubt about Moira being bitten by the creature - werewolf. She had considered checking her wounds just in case, but felt foolish for it. Why would she even consider indulging in tales of fantasy? It was absurd.

However, she couldn't deny what Kliment had turned into.

O

Moira made her way down into her laboratory, more than eager to get back into her work.

Victor had been humming to himself while sitting in his cell and he smiled back at her. "Good morning, La Loba," he said, in a suspiciously cheerful voice. "How was your dance with the dogs?"

He laughed at his joke and Moira furrowed her brow. "What are you on about?"

Victor shrugged his shoulders, still amused. "Well, I heard the excitement all the way down here. Do you remember the bitten werewolf? Poor, poor Kliment. Killed before he could savor the nightly hunts. And then, the idiota went and bit you."

Moira started to argue - to question the absurdity of such an assumption before her features clouded in thought. No, she didn't remember being bitten. She made her way to a nearby wash room and listened to Victor begin to hum his song again.

Ignoring him, Moira unbuttoned her shirt pulled it from her shoulder so that she could better study the bandages. Tilting her head, she turned so that her shoulder was pointed at the mirror. Gently peeling the bandage from her skin, she winced only a few times before craning her head to see the damages that had been done.

The flesh where the claws had sunk in looked puffy and raw; despite the unpleasant mark where she had been bitten, there was no blood. In fact, it looked as if she'd never been bitten or clawed into at all. Moira blinked, staring at the wound in the mirror with shock.

"That isn't possible..." she whispered, "It's healed in a day."

Did that mean...

Moira exited the wash room and found Victor smiling broadly at her. "Well? You told me you wanted my secrets. Now you get to have them after all."

No. He didn't possibly mean -

Moira's eyes widened. The fascination with the unknowns had gradually transformed into horror. She would not just possess the abilities of a werewolf. She would lose control. She would be a wild animal, just as Kliment had become. That was not in the agenda. She couldn't become a rampaging beast.

Victor paced around the cell, chuckling to himself before he started to sing.

"_La Loba, La Loba, so well read,_" he sang, "_Then she got bit and lost her head. Sun goes down, we laugh and cry. Moon comes up, all her friends will die._"

He laughed mirthfully now, savoring the frigid glare on Moira's face.

O

Angela had been searching for her all evening.

She found Moira outside on the balcony, overlooking the facility below. She cautiously approached, not sure how the older woman's mood would be. After all, she had to know the increase in guard patrols and what they meant. The word had been spread to everyone there and now, Moira would probably understand the purpose of them.

"Ah, I've found you," Angela tried to save face, "I was worried."

"Hm." Moira's response was nothing more than a tired, simple murmur.

"I suppose you know why Ana called for them," Angela replied, standing beside her.

She glanced hesitantly to Moira and noticed the older woman's expression; she didn't look upset by this knowledge and instead she looked to be in thought. It was always difficult to tell with her sometimes, even when Angela had seen Moira from afar. She was rarely ever angry or shared any sort of outburst with them, save for the moment in the mess hall.

"She wants to kill me," Moira finally said. "Doesn't she?"

Angela cleared her throat, leaning against the railing a little. "She wants to take every precaution necessary." It wasn't a lie, either.

"I know what that means, Angela. She wants to shoot me the moment I change."

Angela stared at her, eyes widening. "Y-You think you will?"

"I know I will." Moira still seemed calmer than Angela would have expected. "And if I do? She will kill me. Or at least try."

"You really think that?" Angela was disheartened to hear it.

"It's what I would do. Cull a wild beast before it gets strong enough to kill you."

"No one is killing anyone," Angela argued, with firm resolve. "I cannot believe we are even considering such a thing." She was determined not to see that happen and would hear no further argument from anyone about it. "And I intend to stay with you, even after you change." She paused, considering her words. "IF you DO change."

Moira stared at her, gauging her level of sincerity. It certainly seemed to surprise her, but it drew a smile on her face that lasted only a few moments. She didn't seem to comprehend Angela's intent; not at first, anyway. Still, it seemed to make her happy to hear, if just for a second.

"Thank you."

That was all she said, but Angela was happy to hear it regardless. She didn't quite know what the older woman was thinking, but perhaps that was best.

After all, the same clenching in her chest returned, especially when she noticed how relieved Moira seemed to be.

Whatever happened next, they had to be prepared.


	4. Fear and Other Smells

~O~

The first thing Moira noticed was her hearing.

She could hear music playing while she was busy at work, her face buried in a microscope. It sounded like a familiar song known as "Nothing's Gonna Stop Up Now". One of the night guards liked to listen to it during his patrols. It sounded close and loud, which was impossible as her laboratory had been far below from the rest of Overwatch. It was rare to be able to hear much of anything above her.

She sighed impatiently, attempting to ignore it while she studied a sample of her own blood. Victor was lying on the floor, arms behind his head and his eyes closed. He did smile at the frustrated grunts from the woman outside of his cell, as if he knew what was bothering her.

"You get used to it," he said, "The hearing is the first thing you notice changing."

Moira frowned up at him. "What?"

"The first thing that'll change is your hearing," Victor explained, with a small yawn, "Then the smell comes next. All your senses are heightened, even in human form. That can't be avoided."

Moira thought about that.

Well, the idea that things would change for the better like that was rather...interesting. Even she couldn't deny some measure of benefit to it, despite the circumstances. Still, she continued to imagine how these little benefits would mean nothing if she couldn't learn to even control them.

"I can teach you, you know," Victor said, sitting up with that same smile on his face. "I can show you how to control it."

"Show me." Moira considered his words, suspicious. "And what, pray tell, would you ask for in return?"

"Well, my freedom for one thing," Victor said. When her eyes narrowed, his own darkened. "And for you to kill my brother."

Moira looked a little surprised. "What? Why?"

"He invites the worst possible attention to us and our kind," Victor told her, with a sigh of dismay. He leaned back on the floor, crossed his legs and shook his head. "He kills when he wishes, turns when he wishes. There are few of us who believe we are invincible creatures, superior to humans and he is one of them."

"And why do you believe Overwatch is the best choice to kill your brother?"

"You have the means and resources, _si_?" Victor told her. "Julian may be a wild beast, but he's sneaky. He would smell me coming after him and be gone before I could blink. But you? You're a newly sired wolf. _La Loba_, with your technology, you can find and end him before he continues to ruin more human lives."

Moira considered his words for a moment more. But she had more questions now.

Victor's features smoothed out. "When you're a werewolf and you consume human flesh, it changes you. You've seen what he's done, surely. You become less human and more animal. Julian succumbed to the change immediately. He savors it. He loves it because he loathes his human nature."

"I see." Moira truly didn't, but it was an interesting idea nonetheless.

The music had been a throbbing ache left in her head and she sighed, rising. "That music." she growled, impatiently slapping her hands on the table in the process.

Victor watched her go and chuckled. "It only gets better from here, _La Loba_!" he called.

Moira made her way to the upper floors and was immediately welcomed by various sounds and smells. Victor had been right; her senses were literally on fire with scents and sounds that she'd never endured before.

Chomping noises from one of the guards eating potato chips.

Chatter from staff above her.

Moira's hands went to her ears and she struggled to block out the cacophony of sounds that threatened to tear her eardrums apart. It was only when she felt a hand on her shoulder that she was able to ignore it and turn, facing Angela who looked troubled.

"Moira," she said, "Are you all right?"

The smell of her was different now.

_Farfalla_ perfume.

The scent of bergamot & roses with a hint of vanilla. She must have made herself nice for the day. Moira didn't really notice until now. It was a pleasant, comforting scent that relaxed the muscles in her body.

"Y-yes," she said, evenly. "I was simply looking for someone playing that song. Do you hear it?"

Angela lifted her head, looking around and attempting to hear the music Moira spoke of. She frowned thoughtfully, shook her head.

"No, I don't."

"It's there!" Moira insisted. She tilted her head toward the sound and sighed, disgusted. "Now they're listening to something called 'Grind On Me'. It sounds atrocious and indecent."

Angela studied her curiously for a few moments before the two women looked up when Ana approached them. She glanced hesitantly to Angela.

"Come with me. We need to talk." she said.

Angela glanced up at Moira briefly, shrugged her shoulders and the two followed her to her office. It felt uncomfortable for Angela, despite how warm and welcoming Ana's office always was. She dared a glance at Moira, who looked strangely calm, even if she knew what the meeting between them was surely about.

"Moira, you can wait outside. I need to speak with Angela alone." Ana told the older woman.

Angela looked at Moira, who smiled reassuringly. But her eyes seemed pensive. She wasn't an idiot. She knew they were going to talk about her.

"Of course." she said, leaving the office without another word.

O

Moira paced down the carpeted hallways, absently running her fingertips against the wall as she did.

Then, her ears were attuned to the noises of chatter from Ana's office.

Jesse.

Winston.

Angela.

Ana.

Genji.

They were all discussing the "situation" involving her. Moira had always known how most of them felt about her and it never had been a concern; she worked in silence as always and ignored the looks and whispers as her duties resumed. But now, it just scraped away at the back of her mind knowing that this change affected them as it did. She felt her skin bristle, her teeth ache and her fingertips itch. They were all new sensations she had not been familiar with; Victor would have insight on this matter.

She started to go, but paused at the sounds of the voices.

"...I stand with Angela on this matter," Winston was saying. "Moira may not be your favorite person to work with, but she needs our help. We can't just put a bullet between her eyes like that. What about everything she's done for us?"

Moira raised her eyebrows. Of all those she expected to speak on her behalf, Winston wasn't one of them and apparently, Jesse agreed with that sentiment.

"Huh. Didn't think you liked her after what happened," he said.

"I don't have high opinions of Dr. O'Deorain, that much is true," Winston agreed, "But it's important we understand what we're dealing with for the future. And it's important to Angela. We should trust our doctor's opinion all the same."

"Am I to assume you will also speak on Moira's behalf?" Ana questioned someone else in the room.

"Yes." Genji answered, "Because it is important to Angela."

Well, of course the ninja would go to her defense. Such a lovesick little sparrow. Moira rolled her eyes at the thought, but didn't have much to consider when she heard the door start to open.

"Hold it a moment," Ana interrupted, to whoever wanted to leave, "I'm not finished."

"Yes," Angela had spoken, "Kliment changed during the full moon. We have weeks before the next one. If it's true that this creature - "

"I'm calling it werewolf." Jesse told her.

"Yes, _werewolf_," Angela continued, with a small bit of exasperation in her voice, "If it's true that the werewolf changes during the full moon as the legends suggest. We have until a few weeks before the next full moon. We can look for ways to fix this or make the facility safer for everyone."

Safe.

She was like an uncontrollable animal.

Moira felt much like Victor did all of a sudden and before anyone could leave, she was already making her way back down to her laboratory. Victor had been sitting in his cell, braiding his own hair when he heard her arrive. He smiled at her and tilted his head.

"Did you find the music?" he asked.

"No." Moira said, her tone biting, "I have work to do. There must be a cure."

Victor looked at her, confused. "A what?"

"A cure. To this infection," Moira continued, making her way to her table.

Victor stared at her before he suddenly laughed, as if she had said the most ridiculous thing in the world. Moira stared back, hardly enthused by his reaction. When Victor realized she was serious, he stopped laughing and shook his head, dismissing her with a wave.

"There is no cure, La Loba," he explained, "There were rumors that you had to kill your sire werewolf to return to a human, but that's never been proven by a single member of our kind. No, you'll be a werewolf until you die of age or someone kills you."

Moira refused to believe it. "No. Science will reveal the answers I need as it always does. There IS a cure and I intend to find it."

"Werewolves have been around for centuries," Victor reminded her, his voice still calm, "Many attempts were made to find a cure and with no success to show for it. I wish you luck, querida."

"I don't need luck," Moira said, determined, "I simply need time."

Victor didn't say anything more on the matter. "Well, consider my previous offer anyway."

O

Moira did consider his offer as the days ticked by.

Her attempt to synthesize a cure from her own blood failed time and time again; the altered werewolf cells simply devoured the antibodies, stifling any sort of effort she had made. It was utterly frustrating and all the while, Victor hadn't been much help with his constant complaining and quips. This was utterly ridiculous and was getting her nowhere close to her intended goal.

She took a break to visit the bathroom; washing her face, rinsing her mouth out with water. It certainly helped a little to refresh herself and take away from the rough, scratchy sensation in her throat. After all, she felt a little worse for the wear; her mouth had a foul taste, her eyes were heavy with exhaustion and her hair was messy from constantly running her fingers through it.

Moira took a moment to study her features; her eyes were sunken from lack of sleep. She leaned in close, balancing herself against the sink. Her eyes flashed once - a brighter shade of their usual mismatched color. She blinked once, letting out a start.

"What was that?" she whispered, to herself.

She had been unaware of her own strength as the metal of the sink suddenly buckled and crumbled to the floor, sending a spray from the plumping directly into the air.

"Ah, dammit!" Moira cursed, struggling to stop the flow of water with her coat.

Angela could hear the sounds in the hallway and she paused, knocking on the door. "Moira? Are you alright in there?" she asked.

"Yes - Oh! - I'm fine!" Moira called out.

"Are you sure? I hear water."

Moira groaned, rolling her eyes as she struggled to get the water to stop flowing. She was getting drenched, her socks soaked in her shoes. It was unpleasant and utterly embarrassing. Ignoring the fact that her strength had grown enough for her to actually break the metal of the sink, Moira struggled to keep the water from flowing by sticking her jacket into the pipe where the water was spraying out.

Once it seemed to stop, Moira took a moment to collect herself and her breath before she opened the bathroom door. Angela was startled to see her drenched condition. Her hair was plastered to her forehead and she looked completely embarrassed.

"Um..." Angela raised an eyebrow and gestured up and down at Moira's condition. She stifled a giggle. "Did we go swimming in the toilet?"

"No. The sink." Moira felt a flush touch her cheeks. "It's broken."

Angela sighed, shaking her head. "Come with me."

Moira's shoes squished unpleasantly loud as she was led to the infirmary.

Moira's hair was promptly dried with a towel to her head. Angela ran it through a few times, murmuring in snippets of German as Moira sat still in the seat. After getting a change of clothes and shoes, Angela offered to run a little physical of the older woman and Moira reluctantly agreed.

"How have you slept?" Angela asked.

"Mmm, not well. I had a strange dream last night," Moira told her.

"Oh?" Angela was pushing a large machine toward her; a sphygmomanometer, "What was it about?"

Moira furrowed her brow as she thought about it. Perhaps discussing the dream would ease her tension a little. "I was running. It was dark and I think I was in Tardree forest in Ireland. I recall that place from my childhood. But I was just...running."

Angela began to set up the machine and gently guided Moira's hand in a little opening that would read her blood pressure.

"I see." she said. "Anything else?"

"I heard howling in the dream." Moira's features were distant; she was miles away as she began to think about the werewolf. "I had to reach it. I don't know, but in that dream, I was determined to reach the call."

Angela hid her concerned face from Moira's view as she switched on the machine. She waited until it loaded up and watched the digital readout display Moira's blood pressure readings. Moira watched her silently as she worked and Angela dared a small glanced down at her before laughing softly, embarrassed.

"Give it a moment." she said.

"Of course."

Angela then furrowed her brow with a thoughtful murmur as she studied the results. "Huh."

"'Huh'?" Moira repeated. "What does 'huh' mean?"

"Systolic blood pressure is 138," Angela said, troubled, "Diastolic blood pressure reads 82."

"That's bad, I take it." Moira leaned to one side to look.

Angela shook her head, making a funny face at her assessment. "It isn't GOOD, Moira. I would often make it a point to question a patient about potential hypertension in their family, but... Now I'm wondering if it has a lot to do with the genetic changes to your body."

"Well..." Moira thought about that too. "I feel...fine, really. Though I am a little nervous."

Angela's features softened and she knelt beside Moira, placing a gentle hand over hers. Moira was surprised by the contact, glancing down where their hands touched. It made her feel pleasantly warm and she didn't argue with it.

"It's alright, I won't let you do this alone," Angela assured her. "I know the thought of it is frightening, but I'll stay with you if it happens."

Moira swallowed thickly, glancing down at her other hand. In truth, the thought of changing into an uncontrollable beast was a terrifying thought. She didn't know what would happen to her or if she would end up like Kliment and bite a bullet.

Her fingers rubbed together before she smiled somewhat. She didn't look and Angela, but her tone was softer. "I hadn't thought that you, of all people would."

"Well, to be fair, I didn't think you liked me much, either." Angela agreed, with an awkward chuckle.

"What makes you say that?"

"...You named one of your rabbits 'Better Angela'."

Moira winced and laughed a little. Oh, yes. That had been one of her moments of pettiness when she had been hired to Overwatch. "Yeah, a shameless joke, I suppose." she admitted. "Truth be told, I don't hate you, Angela. I know I have never made it easy to assume otherwise. I respect you as a doctor. You've accomplished your share of miracles."

"Ah." Angela's cheeks reddened and she waved her hand. "You're simply being polite. I don't perform miracles."

"Well, not in the religious sense, of course," Moira agreed, with a small chuckle, "But you understand that your exploits are to be commended."

"Thank you."

For a moment, Angela certainly appreciated the conversation until Jesse walked into the infirmary and felt Moira stiffen where she sat. He glanced down at her with a guarded frown before looking at Angela.

"Well I thought I'd find you here," he said, "Captain's calling for you, but you didn't answer your comm link."

Angela blinked, attempting to shake off the flushed feeling across her face. "Of course. I didn't think to grab it. I'm sorry."

She rose to go and Jesse looked down at Moira with a suspicious glare before he left the room. Angela sighed, looked down at Moira.

"We will finish what we started when I return," she assured her.

Moira found that she wanted that very much.

She had felt alone before in Overwatch, but now that she was cursed with such disease, it seemed that they loathed her even more. Yet somehow, Angela did not.

It was a welcome change, really.

O

Angela was true to her word and returned to resume observing Moira for her research. A few other doctors had come into the infirmary to help her with cleaning up a few tools and other medical equipment; they had been used for surgeries, no doubt.

Moira watched one of the doctors and her nostrils fluttered as she took a deep inhale. Angela noticed the strange way she closed her eyes, sighed through parted lips.

"Hm..." Moira mused, her tone filled with smoke.

It was an unusual tone of voice that brought forth the most peculiar, warm shudder in Angela's bones. She had never heard Moira make such a sound, nor experience such a reaction.

"That's a peculiar smell." Moira said.

"What is?" Angela asked, her voice lowering to a whisper of fascination.

Moira tilted her head toward the doctor. "I can smell...his fear."

Angela didn't want to laugh, but the sound that came from her mouth was a quick gasp of amusement. "What? No, you surely can't."

"I can." Moira told her, with a small smile of awe, "It's not like smelling something sweet or sour when it comes to food or drink. It's heavy. I've never known emotions to be so tangible to the senses."

It was such an interesting thing to be alive with sensations Moira had never come to experience as a human. She would have to consult with Victor about what else she could experience and hopefully, find a cure to it before she lost control. It was frightening to think about, despite the access to vital research.

Just the mere thought of turning into an uncontrollable beast and tearing apart...

No. No, she wouldn't think about that now.

Even if she felt a stirring of something inside of her. It was a grand, heavy thing that pressed hard against her head, scratching away at her brain like the claws of the werewolf that had sunk deep into her flesh.

Angela was clearly worlds away for a moment before she shook her head. "Well, may I take a look at the wound?" she asked, gesturing to Moira's back with one finger.

"Of course." Moira began to unbutton her shirt.

She paused and Angela noticed a little darker shade of crimson touch the tips of Moira's ears as she removed the shirt she was wearing. The simple black bra she wore contrasted her pale, freckled skin and Angela gently turned her shoulder to observe what she thought would be a gruesome wound still leaking.

Instead, all that remained was a hideous white scar where the werewolf had sunk his teeth into her and left puncture wounds from his claws.

Angela lightly touched her fingertips to it, awestruck. "It healed already?" she whispered.

"Yes." Moira answered, quite happy that Angela didn't see the little blush touching her cheeks from the contact of her hand.

"The regeneration is unlike anything I've ever seen!" Angela gasped, running her fingertips up the length of the bite mark, not noticing how it raised goose-pimples up Moira's back. "Despite everything, I am thankful it no longer causes you pain."

"And I am thankful as well." Moira replied, glancing back at her briefly.

There was a glance shared between them and Angela gave a small chuckle. She lowered her eyes briefly, then handed Moira her shirt back.

"Well, I will return shortly once I've finished a meeting," she assured her. "I trust you will want to return to your laboratory to continue your efforts?"

"I will." Moira looked determined now. She began to button up her shirt. "I will not waste a single second."

Angela was worried, Moira could see it on her face. Still, she was smiling, her eyes encouraging.

"I'm sure you'll find a way."

O

Moira returned to the laboratory below.

Victor had been sleeping when he heard her arrive. He yawned, stretched and flexed his toes before tilting his head up at her when he noticed her troubled look.

"Aww, why the long face?" he asked.

Moira shook her head at him. "Nothing. I have much to do. I need to find a cure before the full moon. Whatever's happening to me, it's getting stronger."

Victor seemed to consider something. Then, he furrowed his brow and for the first time, looked disappointed. "Why look at it so badly?" he asked. "Consider the idea of sheer strength as a bonus, _La Loba_."

"Is it truly a bonus as you say when I lose control and rip apart everyone in my path like a wild animal?" Moira snapped, glaring at him.

"Well, that is why I offered to help you control it." Victor said, with a smile. "You're not the first Bitten I've met and helped. It's harder, yes, but not impossible. I offered to help as long as you find a way to kill my brother."

Moira stared at him suspiciously and he continued to smile, shrugging his shoulders once. "Well, you have a few weeks to consider because like it or not, you will change. I can smell it on you through this glass."

"Smells... That reminds me," Moira raised one finger thoughtfully before she took a seat in front of him. "I can smell different things now. Emotional responses."

Victor grinned, nodding. "That you will." he agreed, "Fear and other smells that no human gets to understand. It's quite exciting, isn't it?"

Exciting? Moira had many words for what she was dealing with, but exciting wasn't one of them. Though she was curious by it and what that could mean for the future. Perhaps she should consider the benefits when it came for studying this new revelation.

"Mmm," Victor sighed sadly, shaking his head, "I understand how they look at you now. _Qué triste_. They can't understand. It's the price we pay for our gifts."

In a way, Moira agreed with that sentiment, but not when it came to the werewolf blood now running in her veins. It was the same when it came to her scientific exploits. Most would agree how far she was willing to go was unethical. Most would argue that she should never have been hired by Overwatch. And now because of this incident, it simply made matters worse.

She glanced at the calendar on the nearby wall.

She had two weeks left.


	5. Bad Moon

~O~

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing to show for it.

No matter the attempt at creating a serum that could function as a cure for it, the mutations in the werewolf cells simply consumed any foreign antibodies they came in contact with. It was something Moira was both impressed and disappointed by; she was learning much about these creatures, but failing in providing herself a means to be cured of what she would become.

Victor was no help to her, as usual. Even after he'd been fed his share of ox meat, he constantly reminded her that there was nothing to be done about curing her of the werewolf infection. The suggestion that killing the werewolf who sired her still lingered in her mind, however, but that wasn't going to help her now that the creature had been killed. He had said that it was rumored to have cured her, but certainly not proven.

Frustrating.

Angela was sitting beside her as they listened to Jesse arguing with Ana about how dangerous it was rising and Moira running free during the full moon - which was tomorrow night. He thought it would have been best that she be kept locked up before she changed and killed them all in their sleep.

"Listen, I know it don't sound fair and all, but Kliment turning and nearly killing her?" Jesse pointed out, "I'm just sayin'. We have to be proactive about it before she could do the same to everyone here."

Moira had her hands resting on the arm rests of the chair. Despite how calm she looked, Angela glanced to the side and noticed Moira's hand trembling as she held the arm rests tight. Her arms were shaking and her nails scraped the metal of the chair, leaving deep grooves.

The shudders stopped and Moira glanced down briefly when Angela touched her hand. The younger woman didn't look at her and still remained focused on the conversation, but she could see Angela swallow thickly, see the sadness in her eyes. She clearly didn't like this at all.

Well, Moira didn't particularly enjoy it.

Ana sighed gently, raising a hand to Jesse before she looked at Moira. "Have you had any luck with your research into this matter, Dr. O'Deorain?"

Moira hesitated to answer. Angela looked at her and read the conflict, the aggravation at being put on the spot. Still, she spoke with all the firm resolve when it came to her research.

"My results are...inconclusive." she said, with dismay. "The lycanthropy genes are powerful and consume any antibodies they come in contact with. I simply need more time to - "

Jesse interrupted with a grunt. "Yeah? Well full moon's tomorrow night. Time ain't exactly on your side there, doc."

Moira's fingers tightened on the arm rest and Angela gave her a comforting squeeze with her hand to calm her. She struggled to calm her voice - which seemed to take greater effort than usual. She was unhappy and based on what she told Angela, probably terrified by the idea of changing.

"Regardless, I have a space prepared below," Moira assured them, though her voice was derisive, "Should it be necessary when the time inevitably comes." A thin smile lit her lips, but it wasn't a happy one. "I'm sure I'm in good, capable hands, after all."

Jesse seemed more than happy with the idea, but Ana felt it bittersweet given how Moira looked at them. She made a face, her brow wrinkling before she nodded. There would have to be guards stationed around the facility, of course. It was only for the protection of everyone else. Surely Moira could understand that much.

O

Moira was alone in her quarters the following evening.

The temperature in the room felt scorching.

Moira staggered to her bathroom, leaned against the sink and splashed her face with several handfuls of cold water. It didn't help much, so she turned to the sink, switched on the faucet and dipped her head in the icy water. Groaning lowly, she shut her eyes and was welcomed with a flash of the forest from her dream, passing so fleeting in her mind. It was a stronger yearning now that she couldn't understand.

The pressure in her head had returned and she felt a twisting beneath her skin. Muscles ached to change. She knew it would come. It wanted it.

SHE wanted it.

No. No, she didn't want that.

Moira shook her head in rebuke, gasping out a curse. It was inevitable, she knew that much. She would change regardless of how much she yearned not to. It seemed that the dark stirring of the creature waiting to emerge fought a battle with her for control. The closer the phase of the moon, the greater the yearning.

A groan escaped her that sounded less human and more like a growling snarl of a dog. She took a moment to shut her eyes, calm her racing heart before she heard the knock at the door.

"Who is it?" she called, hoarsely.

"It's Angela," came the voice that brought a certain calm to Moira's racing heart. Her voice was hesitant. "Are you...alright? You sound ill."

An odd question.

Moira walked to the front door and opened it. It slid open and she glanced down at Angela, who noticed her sickly expression and damp condition. She gave a small laugh and shook her head, unable to stop the mild pink that touched her cheeks from Moira's condition.

"Did we break another sink?" she asked, trying to joke.

Moira made a face. Her tone came out a little more gruff than she intended. "No."

"Ah." Angela realized that she wasn't in the mood for jokes. Her tone more considerate, she looked up at her hopefully. "Perhaps some air would do us both good? I'd planned on taking a moment above on the balcony. You may...join me if you wish."

Moira was taken by the offer, but found that yes, she certainly did wish to join Angela. She found the company much needed in the passing weeks. And it seemed as if every time Angela was there, the weight in her head didn't feel like it was pressing so heavily. Yes, yes, she definitely couldn't say no to it.

"Alright." Moira agreed, smiling a little. "I'll take you up on that offer."

Anything to get away from the prying eyes of the guards.

"A moment to enjoy some peace and quiet... probably just a moment, though." Angela murmured, surreptitiously.

It made Moira laugh. She couldn't help it.

They ventured above, took a seat beside one another on one of the many benches. Angela noticed how uncomfortable Moira seemed, so she pressed to discuss her research, which seemed to be a great source of pride for the older woman. Angela had always questioned why Overwatch had employed her in the beginning, but she could not deny Moira's exploits, such as they were. Regardless of the lengths she had gone, Moira's scientific abilities were beyond impeccable on their own, she wouldn't deny that much.

Angela decided that despite the fear of what was going on, this was nice. It was pleasant to sit down and have a conversation to forget everything for a little while. It certainly put both of them at ease.

Angela shared stories of her time at her university, as well as good and bad experiences she had as a doctor before becoming a member of Overwatch. It was nice evening and even more so now that Moira had almost forgotten about the werewolf curse lingering over her.

Oh, that.

She glanced down at her watch and Angela looked at her, noticing the gesture. "Oh, of course." she said, her voice quieting down. "We should get you to the holding cell, shouldn't we?"

Moira swallowed thickly. Her heart began to beat faster, yet she struggled to calm her voice. "Yes. We should."

"I'll stay with you." Angela assured her, when they stood up and started to walk away.

"You don't have to do that."

"I want to. I don't want to leave you alone."

"I - " Moira hesitated, licking her lips worriedly. "I don't know how I'll feel being seen...in such a state. I don't even know what I might remember or..."

"It's alright, Moira." Angela continued to reassure her, a hand on her shoulder. She smiled, clearly still sad about what had happened. But she didn't look afraid. "We should go, though. It's almost time."

They were already walking, just as the clouds had begun to part.

"I should be grateful for it, really," Moira admitted, as they continued to walk. "But I don't understand something. Why are you so willing to stand by my side?"

Angela shrugged her shoulders. "It's what I do, Moira. You know this."

"Hm. I see." She really didn't.

Moira felt the same stirring and she stopped only once, shaking her head quickly with a small groan. It was sharper now, more insistent as pressure in the base of her spine. Angela had paused, watched her uneasily.

"Moira?" she said, speaking carefully, "Come. We're not far, I hope?"

Moira nodded her head with several small grunts as she rid herself of the sensation with another shake of her head. "No, no it shouldn't be - "

She only made it two steps before she cut herself off and doubled over, clutching her midsection with a louder, sharp groan of pain. Immediately, several guards stationed on high vantage points pointed their guns at her and Angela held out a hand up at them, hoping to keep them calm. She desperately didn't want them to shoot her.

"Wait!" she cried, "Don't shoot!"

"She's changing! She might - "

"I SAID _DON'T SHOOT!_" Angela's voice raised to a volume that none of them had ever heard before; angry and nearly loud enough to be heard by everyone in the facility. "THAT'S AN ORDER!"

The moon was bright and full overhead and Moira cast her eyes toward it. Immediately, her body was seized by an invisible force and she began to tremble, heavy panting sounds escaping her nose. She clenched her teeth, her angular jaw tightening.

Then, she leaned against a wall and Angela cupped her cheeks, bringing her eyes up to meet hers. "Moira, listen to me, let's keep walking," she pleaded, "Come on. You're still here, yes?"

Moira had already begun to sweat heavily. Her skin was hot, clammy and her eyes were wide and...

Angela had never seen fear on Moira's face before; she shook in her hands, letting out small, high sounds of distress. It was unnerving, but she was determined to keep her calm until they made it to the cell where she would be safe not just from herself, but from the guards who would shoot her without a moment's hesitation. Angela felt that horrified her more than Moira's transformation.

"Yes, that's right," Angela soothed, in a gentle voice, "Come on. We're going into the holding cell where you'll be safe. Don't look up at them. It's just us here, alright? Just us. No one else."

Moira took a moment to collect herself and nodded, somehow reassured a little by her words. "Y-Yes. I'm...I'm still here." she whispered, her voice shaken. A bestial growl escaped her lips, but she fought it back with every ounce of strength that she had.

"The holding cell," Angela whispered, frightened, "Is it ready?"

"It's ready..."

"Good! Now come!"

Angela took Moira's arm and they quickly made haste down the path. Angela continued to yell up at the guards with their guns aimed.

"DO NOT SHOOT!" she shouted. "I have it under control!"

Scheisse. If she had her Valkyrie suit, she could simply carry Moira to the holding cells without a second to waste. Time was running out and Moira was going to change and be far more difficult to help once she did.

Moira groaned out once more, but it carried a whine of agony. Her voice was pleading. "Angela, please, stop running, I can't. I won't make it...!"

"You WILL make it!" Angela promised, refusing to stop.

"Please. Stop. I can't - "

Hearing those words froze Angela in mid run and she turned, horrified to find Moira's eyes were pools of black, her mismatched gaze nearly glowing. She stared down at her hand, eyes widening as it trembled violently before the fingers cracked, lengthening and forming long, dangerous claws. Moira cried out in disbelief and pain, clutching her wrist.

"Mein Gott..." Angela couldn't stop her words.

Moira groaned helplessly, continuously clutching her arm in rebuke. "I-I can't!" she bit out. "It's happening too fast!"

"You can!"

"No... I'm - I'm trying!"

Angela bit her lip, forcing resolve in her voice. "Well, if you won't use your legs, I'll use them for you!"

She grabbed Moira beneath her armpit and ran as fast as she could, practically carrying her toward the place they needed to go. There was no resistance from the older woman and surprisingly, she wasn't as heavy as Angela expected her to be. But Moira's voice had begun deepening as she struggled to speak to her, still protesting Angela's aid.

"Angela, don't..." she growled out, desperation in her voice, "Let me be... I - I don't want to hurt you!"

It was so utterly haunting and something Angela never thought she would hear from Moira. It momentarily distracted her, filled her heart with grief.

"You won't!" Angela promised her, struggling to carry Moira further below. She had to stay focused on keeping her attentive. "You know the woman you are, Moira! Keep focused on me! Don't look away!" She looked up, spotting the holding cell bay doors up ahead. "We're almost there! Almost there!"

She looked back at her again, horrified to see Moira's mouth was dripping of blood. It trickled down her chin in a gruesome display of crimson. She had possibly clenched her jaw so hard in her struggle against herself; fangs had begun replacing her flat teeth and she snarled several animal sounds. Her body was still trembling violently in Angela's arms. Thick red fur had begun sprouting around her long, slender neck. She was temporarily caught between human and beast, fighting her change with everything that she had.

Such a thing would have been impressive if the situation hadn't been so dire.

"Angela, I can't hold on much longer..." Her voice was changing now, altered into a frightening, distorted pitch.

Angela quickly placed her palm on the scanner and it lit up, allow the doors to roar open and the two women inside. Moira was ushered toward a cell and she gave an abrupt roar of pain.

The sound of something crunching - bone snapping - chilled Angela's blood and she noticed that Moira's back had bowed upwards as new muscles began to grow. Her ears began to lengthen, her jaw stretching forward as it formed a muzzle of a wolf.

"Please...go." That was the last thing she said.

She quickly ushered her into the cell and gave her one anguished smile before keying the lock in and trapping the changing woman inside.

"Ich bin da..." Angela whispered.

Moira's body shuddered and she collapsed to her knees in the cell, letting out several tortured roars as she clawed at her clothes and body. Angela could only watch from the safety of the glass, eyes wide in horror as the older woman began to transform.

It was utterly horrible to witness; Moira seemed to be fighting it even as her body changed against her will. She clawed at her flesh, letting out thunderous roars as red fur sprouted over every inch of her body. Large ears formed in place of her short ones and her face transformed into a thinner, more gaunt form of the werewolf they had encountered before.

Teeth snapped.

Claws dug into the floor.

Now completely transformed, Moira crouched there, hissing and trembling with several deep grunts following before she tossed her head and let out a long, piercing howl.

Across the facility, deep within Moira's laboratory, Victor reacted to the howl; his eyes flashed a bright, glowing blue and he grinned widely.

O

Ana, Jesse, Genji and Winston observed the transformed woman from outside the cell.

Moira was pacing back and forth, uttering soft, angry snarls under her breath. Her claws clicked against the metal of the cell, somehow louder than anything else around her. Her mouth was shining with saliva, her jaws snapping tightly with every growl that emerged. Still, she didn't seem overly aggressive as Kliment had been when he had transformed. Perhaps something in the cell kept her docile, but none of them would know for sure.

"She tried to resist it," Angela told Ana, "I watched her fighting the change as much as she could."

Jesse murmured thoughtfully. "Huh." He didn't argue this time.

Moira hissed, clawing at the ground before she finally noticed the watchers. She bared her teeth, raised her haunches and Angela held up one hand to the glass, but Moira charged, throwing her weight against it and causing them all to jump back with several startled cries.

She roared again, slashing at the glass with her claws in an attempt to reach them which proved futile. Angela could only stare at the werewolf with sorrow, trying desperately to find some sign of Moira in the wild, mismatched eyes glaring out at them.

"Moira, please..." she pleaded.

The werewolf shrieked again, perhaps in frustration before she backed up, pacing around the cell again. Ana looked across the room, spotting a bright red button nearby with a note attached. She looked down, read it. PUSH THIS BUTTON IN CASE. It was clearly in Moira's handwriting.

She hesitated, took the note from the button before flipping the cover from it. She gave a final sigh before pressing it with her palm.

An electrical discharge surged through the cell, drawing a shriek of pain from the werewolf inside. She fell onto her back, writhing and clawing at the air.

Angela looked desperately at Ana. "CAPTAIN!" she cried, over the agonized howls from Moira. "What are you doing?"

Ana lifted her hand from the button and looked at Angela regretfully. "Moira left us this note." she told her, gesturing to the note and button. "She was truly prepared."

The red werewolf rolled onto her side, then crawled to her feet and begrudgingly calmed down long enough to sulk in the corner, licking at the fur of her arm in an effort to nurse her wrath and wounded pride. She made no attempt at attacking the glass again.

"I think it'll be fine until morning," Angela's voice sounded strained. "I can watch her until then."

"Angela, we should - " Genji began to gently argue.

"I'll be fine." Angela just as evenly interrupted. "Thank you, Genji. I'll stay here. A coffee, perhaps would suffice. If you would?"

"Of course." Genji sounded sad, but obliged her.

The others filed out, but Winston remained. He watched Angela find a comfortable seat in front of the cell before focusing his attention on the werewolf. Moira continued to pace, hissing and watching the two outside of her cell. Her ears were flat, her teeth bared and her eyes wild, unhinged in every way a trapped animal would look.

It was hard for Angela to watch all the same, but Winston comforted her with a small nudge of his knuckles against her back.

"Look at her," Angela whispered, her voice shaken, "She doesn't even know who we are."

Winston rumbled a sound and he pursed his lips. "I'm sure Moira is still in there somewhere. We can only wait and see when she changes back after tonight."

"What happens after tonight?" Angela wondered, "What will they do to her?"

"I don't know." Winston answered, glancing sympathetically down at her.

They wouldn't know anything until tomorrow.

O

The first thing Moira noticed was the stinging sensation.

She awoke in the cell with a soft, tired groan, focusing her bleary eyes on her surroundings. Her skin ached, her head was pounding and she felt an unbelievable chill in the air. Shuddering, she sat up, blinking and struggling to remember everything that had happened and what led her here.

Fortunately, she didn't have to wait long as Angela was entering the cell with a blanket in her hands. She wrapped it around Moira's thin, shivering form. Moira avoided her eyes, not certain she wanted to see what looked back at her.

"Ah...thank you, Angela," she said, quietly. "Oh, what time is it?"

"It's ten in the morning," Angela told her, softly. Her eyes told a story Moira really wanted to hear. "Come on. Let's get you to the infirmary right away. We will talk more once we're there."

Moira felt vulnerable as she walked bare-footed down the corridor, aware of the eyes on her from the guards, officers and medical staff. They couldn't take their eyes away from her. That was fine. Moira expected it and didn't give them any satisfaction in seeing her weak. She lifted her chin high and forced strength in her resolve as she followed Angela to the infirmary.

After a physical, Moira was put in the bed for food, despite her insistence that she was perfectly fine. She couldn't shake the thought of her transformation for the first time and how the last thing she'd seen and heard was Angela's voice before it all went black.

"You stayed the entire time." Moira said it as fact.

"I did. I promised I would." Angela assured her. "Do you...remember anything?"

Moira thought about it. She rubbed her temples with two fingers. "Mmm, I don't remember much." she admitted, "The changing. The pain. And then, it went dark. I could still hear voices, but they felt so far away from me."

Angela looked up when she noticed Ana beckoning to her from the doorway of the infirmary. She gave Moira's hand a gentle pet before rising to speak with her. Moira watched as they stood far away, talking. An officer eventually joined and Angela looked horrified by the news he gave her.

"There was another attack?" Angela whispered.

"Yes. Just this morning." Ana said, softly. "If it was the same werewolf who attacked Kliment's village, then this isn't isolated."

Moira watched them from her bed, considering everything being discussed. She thought about Victor's offer of helping her control her changes and aiding them in the fight against his brother. Maybe she would take him up on it after all.

O

Victor was unusually excited when she arrived in her lab.

"Tell me!" he insisted, eagerly pressing his hands to the glass, "How was the first time?"

Moira stared at him. "What?"

Victor couldn't stop grinning. "I envy you, _La Loba_!" he said, "The first time you change is always the most intense experience that no human can ever understand! What was it like?"

Moira didn't really understand his excitement at all; she had too much on her mind at the moment and she knew that the increase in guards and officers would be focused highly on her now. What could she say? That the excruciating pain of being ripped apart from the inside out was good? Was that really what he thought it was? She loathed the thought.

"It was like I was being torn apart," Moira told him, "And Angela, she..." A flicker of warmth touched Moira's face in seconds before it disappeared. "I could have killed her. I..."

Victor smiled somewhat and inclined his head slightly. "Mmm, I see." He said nothing on the matter further. "Well, I do hope they find my brother. There will be more attacks. Unless you have my help. You know I'm right, _querida_."

The infuriating part of it was true.

He was right.


	6. Heat

~O~

Victor was being stared at by everyone in the room.

He murmured thoughtfully, watching the guards who had their guns clutched tight in their hands, the wary, suspicious frowns from the Overwatch officers. He expected as much from them, so he remained calm and smiled, whistling his approval at the technology around him. Ana was there to do the questioning.

"Well, so this is where the magic happens," he said.

Moira was unbelievably tense when Victor was being questioned in the interrogation room. He explained everything calmly and considerately to them without a single joke the way he had with Moira. He had also been dressed in a white jumpsuit large enough to suit his size. They couldn't very well have him running about naked as he seemed comfortable with doing.

"How have you come to know Dr. O'Deorain?" Ana questioned.

Victor glanced only for a second to Moira before he smiled brightly. "Well! I didn't!" he said, noticing the way Moira reacted at the corner of her eye. He was lying. "All werewolves know one another. Even the bitten ones. It's all in our sense of smell, you see. I was drawn to the newly bitten _La Loba_ out of curiosity."

Ana raised an eyebrow. "Hmm. So...tell us about yourself, Victor. Are there more werewolves out there?"

"Oh, yes." Victor explained, lacing his fingers in front of him. He was proud of himself with every sentence. "Many, many werewolves. We usually prefer to stay hidden in the dark, but in any case, my brother has been causing you trouble. Killing villages whenever he pleases. Hm. That sounds like Julian."

Ana reacted with a curious hum. "I see. So you're saying you have knowledge of the attacks?"

"I may," Victor continued, "I was curious about Overwatch and your exploits. I hear you can get things done in the way that others cannot. I do offer my services to you and I will even volunteer to help your new wolf control her changes."

Ana was impressed with the offer, but of course, she was no fool to it either. She knew the man expected something. She leaned back, folding her arms across her chest. "And what do you seek in return, Victor?"

"The death of my brother, of course."

"Why is that?"

"He invites chaos to our people and everything you've seen should be proof enough of that," Victor explained, gravely. He sighed, shaking his head. "Killing humans and changing them whenever he pleases. It's just depraved and I won't put my kind at risk so he could flex his little _pito_ at the world."

Ana was still intrigued by him and it was clear she had more questions. "Well, I will give your offer some thought, Victor. But you understand my position. You're a werewolf and for the longest time, we believed your kind was mere myth. We can understand a lot from you."

Victor chuckled and nodded. "_Si_, I know. I will teach you what I can. I will also teach your new wolf, the good doctor how to use her new skills to her advantage. And then, we can stop my brother before he slaughters more innocent humans."

"You're simply...acting on behalf of our race?" Ana still had her doubts. "You don't believe us to be your food?"

Victor seemed disgusted by the notion and yet, couldn't help the small scoff. "God no." he snorted, shaking his head. "I have a strict rule that my pack follows; we don't eat humans. It changes you as a werewolf. It makes you a mindless savage and one taste of human flesh? Well, nothing else satisfies."

"I see." A flicker of concern lit Ana's eyes. Then, she cleared her throat and stared at him curiously. "You never answered my other question."

"Ah..." Now it was Victor's turn to look a little embarrassed. He lowered his eyes, fidgeted with his hands for a moment before he continued. "He killed our sister."

"I see." Ana's look was sympathetic. "I'm sorry."

"My sister and brother had been close to one another," Victor explained, "But she did not share his ideas when the time came to make a choice. We do not believe that humans are lesser than we are. My sister turned her back on him, and he didn't like that. One. Little. Bit. He shifted, ripped her throat out in front of me. And when I tried to kill him myself, he managed to escape."

Ana murmured in deep thought. "I see. How unfortunate for your family. However, if you believe you can provide your assistance on this situation, we will need to discuss it with our officers before we can move forward. You understand."

Victor nodded. He did. "Of course."

O

"This seems like a bad idea, if you ask me."

Jesse, naturally, was opposed to Victor's aid; he didn't trust the other man not simply because he'd been a stranger, but because of the fact that he was a werewolf. Victor was calmly sitting at the table nearby, fidgeting with his claw-like nails while he waited for them to be finished with their discussion. Moira had been watching Victor silently, offering no rebuttal on the conversation. She was just focused on why he didn't mention her imprisoning him.

"Victor knows what's going on with these attacks," Winston offered, quietly. He gave a fleeting glance at the man. "We can't completely trust him, but we don't have many options. If he thinks more attacks are going to come, he may be the edge we need to stop them."

"_Mira_, cowboy," Victor said, rising, "I have reason for helping you - the death of my brother and the unity of my pack. I can help _La Loba_ control her transformations. Everyone wins."

Jesse sighed, taking that into consideration. "Fine." He pointed a finger at him now. "But if you so much as sneeze funny in my direction, I'll show you the business end of my pistol, you hear me?"

Victor smirked at him, raising two fingers in his face. "_Métetelo por el culo, Mamón._" he hissed.

Jesse's eyes narrowed. "What'd you call me?"

"Alright, enough." Ana raised two calming hands. "We will discuss this further at another time. Right now, we need to better understand what we're dealing with and Victor clearly knows more than we do. We will give him a chance, but he doesn't leave our sight."

Moira was in agreement with it. A few begrudging agreements were also shared among the others.

"And Moira?" Ana looked at her now. "Do you think he will be able to help you?"

Moira glanced at Victor, who raised his eyebrows expectantly. She nodded somewhat. "We'll see."

Ana turned to Victor. "Well, we have information you may look at if it helps give you some insight on what we're dealing with."

Victor followed them into the conference room, where they had digital maps marked with the locations that had been targeted, photos of the victims as well as information about each one. He murmured thoughtfully, stopped in front of the photos before he ran his fingertips over them. Everyone watched him silently as he did.

He then glanced at the table, made his way around it to look at the map. Ana gestured for the guards to back away and give him room as he did.

"Ah, this is definitely my brother's handiwork." Victor told them, with a sigh of disapproval. "He leaves his claws on something after an attack. Oh! Yes, like this generator here." He indicated the photo of the ruined generator. "Julian liked to let the world know who he was and that he had been there. He will often turn one or two people of the villages he attacks."

"Based on that, how many do you think he's turned?" Ana questioned.

"I can't say," Victor replied, with a shrug, "Based on this map, he could have a pack well the size of an army by now."

Winston frowned. "What is his goal? What's the endgame here?"

Victor glanced at the map once more, in deep thought. "My brother always talked about making a statement to the world. He sees himself as superior to human beings and he wants to make sure that your kind know that very well. I often told him 'Ay, Julian, you're being ridiculous'. But he was always determined. It would have to be a statement that could reach the whole world."

"Is there a pattern?" Winston wondered, walking toward the map to look with him. "Does your brother have anything in particular that he looks for in his victims?"

"Hm..." Victor considered it. "He enjoys younger humans. The younger the better because they are often easier to mold. The majority of my pack had been young, so he could easily influence them. Sometimes, it's even better when they have no families. This way, there's nothing to hold them back or come looking for them." He shook his head with disgust. "Fucking _Mamahuevo._"

Ana gestured to another nearby village on the map. "Here? Would he go here?"

Victor furrowed his brow, studying the details of the village. "It's small. The population is only five hundred. It would take him a few hours to level it into a pool of blood. Yes. After a few nights of resting the pack, he would most certainly go there."

"Good. We have time to prepare." Ana was satisfied. "In the meantime, we need to learn everything we can about werewolves and Moira needs to better control her changes. We could have the upper hand."

O

Moira was alone on the balcony that evening, watching the stars overhead. It was a good moment to have to herself and clear her head a little. She heard Angela approaching before she saw her. Then, she smelled her perfume and shut her eyes, taking in the familiar, welcoming scent with the senses she had been both blessed and cursed with. Angela smiled up at her.

"So, this is where I find you," she said, "Victor is below with Ana. They're making their plans for tomorrow morning."

"Plans?" Moira looked down at her now, brow furrowed.

Angela tilted her head. She sounded a little lost. "The training? To help you?"

"Ah." Moira had been distracted. "Of course."

Angela made a thoughtful sound and stood beside her. "That Victor is quite the character."

Moira made a haughty sound and then she added, "Like a poisonous toad. Only without the manners. Aside from being an irritant, he can prove himself useful."

A chuckle from Angela. "I suppose that's a way of looking at it." she remarked. "Still, I am glad he's here. If it means he could help teach you and put an end to these attacks."

"Maybe so." Moira agreed now. "Still, what if I change again? You were close to me. I could have killed you."

Angela felt a small prickle of a smile at the corner of her lips. The idea that Moira was concerned for her safety was endearing. Still, she wasn't blind to the dangers and assured Moira of that.

"Victor will be there. And I am capable of defending myself."

"I'm not denying your prowess, Angela. I know you're more than capable but..." Moira hesitated now and she felt warmth on her cheeks. "The mere thought of what could happen..."

She didn't finish her sentence. She simply looked away, abashed by her own words. Angela had been silent and she shook her head, reaching up and hesitating only once before she put a hand on Moira's shoulder. The contact made her glance down at it, her features unreadable.

But it was Angela who noticed the light pink that touched her cheeks. Moira tilted her head and her eyes roved over her, perhaps looking for something. The storm of conflict in those mismatched eyes dwindled somewhat, but they were still two different shades of darker. She had quietly cleared her throat - a very demur sound - and the frayed tone of her voice had smoothed out in the consistent, silken pitch as before.

However, something else passed through that inscrutable expression; a new look that Angela had never seen before. It made heat pulse through her veins and her breathing stop.

How curious.

For Angela's part, she didn't know what she was doing, but she took a step forward anyway without realizing how close she had gotten. Moira watched her curiously, her eyes darkening with something wistful. Moira had no idea how closer she'd gotten until hands were on her cheeks. She didn't stop it.

She didn't WANT to stop it.

A soft groan and she felt lips connect with hers and the rest of the world was gone.

Angela raised a hand to Moira's shoulder, slowly working it toward the back of her neck, holding her closer until their bodies were pressed comfortably together - Moira had her back against the balcony and Angela held her there. A quiet note lifted from the back of Moira's throat and that brought forth a visceral shudder from Angela.

A tentative hand touched her neck and she was blissfully aware of Moira's almost cautious responses.

Those gloriously warm, soft lips rolled so gently over hers and for a moment, Angela had forgotten where she was. She forgot the rest of her job, the fluttering birds around them. Everything no longer existed except for the warmth of Moira's body, the feel of her hands on her cheeks, holding her so carefully, almost as if she were kissing a glass sculpture.

More... her mind begged.

One of her hands gently threaded through the perfectly styled red locks, teasing her scalp and tilting her head to deepen the kiss only a moment. Moira's lips parted only a fraction to scrape her teeth along her lower lip and she clasped one hand around Angela's waist, holding her close against her chest.

She didn't know what she was doing. She didn't know what compelled her to kiss Moira. She knew it was probably bad. But a part of her mind desired it and now that she had kissed the older woman, everything else was forgotten.

Finally, Angela found the strength to snap back to reality; she pulled away only a fraction, releasing an explosion of breath she couldn't stop. Moira gave an equal sound in response, holding those hands to her cheeks. They stared at one another; Moira's eyes were heavy, her cheeks slightly flushed and her brow slowly knotted, as if confused by what had just happened.

The odd sensation crept back into Angela's chest, along with her heart, which had decided to perform a hundred laps in her ribs. Moira's kiss felt like an icy chill and a fiery blaze all at once. Her lips still tickled from the sensation of contact between them.

She blinked once. Twice.

"Please..." Angela found herself saying before she could stop.

"What?" Moira's voice was softer, barely above a whisper.

"Don't stop."

Moira's eyes widened at the plea on Andy's lips. Angela's seemed to comprehend the severity of what she had just said and her own eyes widened. A small gasp escaped her lips and she leaned forward for another kiss.

The sounds of approaching voices filled the air and the pair looked over to see the balcony doors open; Ana and Jesse were chatting with one another and Moira quickly pulled away from Angela, straightening a lock of hair that had somehow gotten out of place. She glanced at Angela, who awkwardly attempted to look as calm and impassive as possible, but there seemed to be a sting of hurt when she had yanked away.

Honestly, what did she expect?

"Ah! Moira, we were looking for you," Ana said, "I tried to comm you, but you didn't answer."

Moira cleared her throat, blinking rapidly to shake away the tingling sensation still lingering there against the surface of her skin.

"Yes, of course," she said, a bit too hastily. "I thought you were busy with Victor."

"We were," Ana explained, "Still, he's being kept in a cell for the time being. We wanted to discuss a proper training regimen for tomorrow. Would five AM work for you?"

Moira's voice evened out a little. "That would be fine. Thank you." There was still a slight tremble in her tone.

Ana nodded an affirmative. Then, she noticed Angela's flushed condition. "Are you feeling alright? You look a little flushed."

Angela chuckled awkwardly, struggling not to look at Moira, which suddenly felt preferable just now. "Oh! Yes, yes, I'm fine. I should return to my office and finish a few reports. I feel a little peckish."

"Alright," Ana said, "Make sure you're well rested."

They started to depart and Moira looked at Angela, softly inquiring. "Angela?"

But Angela was walking away, suddenly embarrassed by what had come over her. "I should go, Moira. I'm sorry. I have lots of work."

The severity of what had just happened crept up at her full force and she made her way back to her office, quietly whispering, "scheisse" the entire way. Once she was inside her office, she slammed the door behind her and slowly sank into the soft, cushioned chair behind her modest desk.

She sat there with a quiet groan, rubbing her face with one hand. "What have I done?"

O

The wind was cold that morning.

Several Overwatch guards were circling them, their weapons at the ready. Victor was standing beside Moira, who had dressed rather sparse, but she assured everyone that she was fine and that her body temperature as a werewolf helped keep her comfortable for the icy weather.

Angela was standing beside Ana, Jesse, Genji and Winston. She hadn't slept much after what had happened and Moira had shown no indication that it had bothered her. Instead, she seemed focused on the task at hand - too focused, perhaps. She hadn't looked at Angela at all.

"Now..." Victor addressed Moira and the others watching. "Werewolves who are bitten, are more prone to changes during the full moon. However, it is possible for a bitten to change at will like a pure-blood may. BUT! In the case of a bitten werewolf, you never want to be too close when they change."

"Why is that?" Winston asked, shrugging.

"They tend to be quick to lunge," Victor continued to explain. He gestured to Moira, who rolled her eyes with dismay at his elaborate sweep to her.

"_Gan mhaith._" she muttered under her breath.

Victor faced her completely. "Now, I want you to find an anchor."

"A what?" Moira tilted her head.

"Something that keeps you calm and level. Something that brings you some measure of joy in life."

Moira murmured thoughtfully. That seemed to make a lot of sense when she thought about it. She gave only the most fleeting glance toward Angela before she nodded her head once and raised her chin.

"Alright." she said. "I have one, perhaps."

"Good!" Victor smiled and nodded. "Now then. The next step is to find the wolf within you." When she stared blankly at him, he sought to explain. "The werewolf you become is a part of you now, _La Loba_. If you try to resist it or fight the change, it becomes worse. Trust me, I've seen a wolf attempt to hold back the change and it tore him apart. He lost control in the middle of my living room."

Angela reacted with a quiet gasp. "That can happen?"

Victor nodded, still looking at Moira. "Mm, it can. It's only worse when you resist it."

Moira made a face now. "Well, we certainly don't want that." she agreed. She took a deep inhale and closed her eyes. "Alright, how do I find the 'wolf within me'?"

"Focus." Victor encouraged, raising one calming hand as he took a few steps back to give her room. "It's there. It's waiting within you. Accept it as a part of you, embrace it as your own."

Moira exhaled slowly, closing her eyes. She took a moment to focus as he instructed, but everyone watching her sent bristling sensations up her back. She could see the werewolf with her eyes, waiting and lurking beneath the surface of her skin.

_Focus._

She took a deep breath and everyone watched as her eyes flashed briefly before she exhaled impatiently, shaking her head and looking at Victor.

"I can't. It's not so simple." she said.

Victor stared at her in silence for a moment, studying the woman. He sighed softly, shook his head once. The others simply watched in silence as well.

Finally, Victor spoke and for the first time, his voice was sympathetic. "You're afraid."

"Of you?" Moira sneered at the idea.

"No. You're afraid to change," Victor said. "Don't deny it, _querida_. You can lie to them as much as you want, but not to me. I can smell fear all over you."

"Don't smell me."

Moira looked annoyed and disgusted. She folded her arms across her chest and didn't want to look in Angela's direction to see what sort of expression she would have. Victor shook his head, raised an eyebrow.

"I told you I would be here. I am an old werewolf and I've dealt with bitten wolves before," he reminded her, "You have these officers ready as well. So what could you possibly be afraid of?"

Moira didn't answer. She was suddenly aware of everyone's eyes on her and immediately, she felt stripped bare. It was absolutely unnecessary to attempt to make her feel weak in front of everyone. It stirred something and she felt the werewolf shift beneath her skin.

Victor read the look with a smile on his face. "Well, there it is, _La Loba_. You've touched the wolf within you just the slightest, but I can see it shifting. Now use that focus and change."

Moira gave him another cold look, then her features softened when she glanced toward Angela. Jesse seemed tense, his hand at his holstered pistol. Genji had not reacted, but Moira knew the ninja well enough to know that he could simply lunge at a blink of an eye.

Another stirring within.

Moira sighed quietly, shut her eyes and focused as Victor instructed. She remembered the kiss that Angela had given her. She remembered that it had astounded her, but she had quickly learned to appreciate the contact in a way she hadn't thought she would. Moira would admit to herself that Angela had been on her mind, and -

Hm, this was simpler. The pain in her head wasn't as sharp as it had been before.

A low groan burst from her lips when she felt the first change; snapping in her spine.

Everyone tensed where they stood, weapons up, but Victor raised an angry hand at them. "Wait!" he snapped, "Give her space!"

They backed away, watching in stunned silence as Moira began to transform. Just like before, it had been excruciating to witness; loud, deepening groans escaped her lips as her jaw cracked, lengthened into a long snout. Red hair sprouted from her skin, her arms lengthening and her fingers developing into sharp, dangerous claws. Angela watched in muted shock unable to tear her eyes away. It looked less agonizing than the first time. Perhaps it was because Moira hadn't been attempting to resist her chance this time.

Moira dropped to her hands and knees, choking out another grunt as her transformation completed with a snapping of her knees and elongation of her spine into a tail. Victor watched her, baring his teeth, which were now sharper. He could smell distress from her. Not a good first sign.

She straightened on two legs now, shivering with several low, panting moans. Low, ratting growls followed and she looked around, her mismatched eyes focusing on those watching. It almost seemed as if she was confused by what was going on, but it took her only a few seconds to regain her senses. Moira's features darkened and she bared her sharp teeth, taking a step toward the officers watching her. Specifically, her focus seemed to be on Angela as she took slow, but full steps in her direction.

Jesse started to point his gun at her, but Victor hissed out. "Pendejo! Lower your gun!" he whispered.

Angela raised two hands, girding herself as Moira continued to advance on her. Jesse and Genji were ready to draw their weapons on her if necessary. Angela was about to look up at Moira beseechingly, but Victor shook his head.

"Angela, DO NOT. Make eye contact!" he urged, in a low voice.

"What? Why?" Angela gasped.

"She will take it as a challenge and attack, I promise you. Lower your head." Victor instructed, warily. "Right now, her animal instincts have full control. Trust me. Keep your eyes lowered until I say so."

Moira snarled loudly at Angela with her teeth bared, face dangerously close to her head. Angela blinked carefully, but shakily turned her head away as Victor had instructed. She could smell the pungent werewolf's breath in her face, feel every rapid puff of air against her hair. She swallowed thickly, daring only a fleeting glance at the corner of her eye.

Moira was glaring down at her, nostrils fluttering with every rapid inhale. Her great chest swelled with every breath. She wasn't any move to attack her; simply, she was staring at her angrily. The others were squared, ready to attack Moira if needed. The situation was extremely tense, but no one was moving. Victor was focused intensely on Moira, ready to intervene if he had to.

"Now..." Victor encouraged Angela, "I need you to slowly - SLOWLY - raise your hand to her. Let her get your scent. It will bring her back to her human self and she will remember you."

Angela nodded her head, then raised her hand as slow as she felt was safe. Moira had been focused on her the entire time, but her eyes locked onto the approaching hand and she growled softly, a warning. Angela still refused to look up until Victor said it was safe. Instead, she felt little puffs of breath against her hand and the wet sensation of Moira's nose.

Moira was sniffing her.

It was a sensation that tickled. Angela swallowed a giggle and she couldn't help but notice at the corner of her eye that the other officers had taken Victor's advice and looked away from Moira.

"Okay, now look up, she's calming..." Victor whispered.

Angela dared to lift her eyes slowly and she noticed Moira's features had eventually softened on her wolf features. Now that she was close enough, she could still see a little of the woman in there. Moira's eyes, her angular features, the red color of her fur the same as the hair on her head. Angela tilted her head at her and Moira imitated the gesture. She smiled somewhat and Moira made a sound, a rhythmic rumbling noise equivalent to a purr.

She seemed intent on rubbing her nose against Angela's hand to take in her familiar scent. A soft huff escaped her and she grunted before lowering her ears. Angela gave a breathless, excited laugh as she felt Moira bump her head against her hand, so she ran one hand through the thick fur on the top of her head.

"W-Well then," she said, "You're still in there? Yes, yes you are. Of course you are."

Angela received a few odd stares, but no one said a thing. Victor smiled his approval. "Hm, we have a way to go, yet. But this is a good start."

There was a strange look on Moira's face when Angela rubbed her head. It almost resembled a hopeful, careful smile as much as the wolf-like features would allow; perhaps she had been concerned about Angela being afraid, hurting her, or running away.

Moira could smell no fear of any kind from Angela. There was just a scent filled with wonder, blended with her perfume. She shut her eyes, feeling herself calmed by it.

Such a curious thing it was.


	7. Dances With Wolves

~O~

Victor shared stories of werewolf life and his pack with the officers that evening in the conference room. Many of them had wanted information about what they could expect and how they could properly defend themselves, but Victor also seemed intent on discussing his pack.

"My pack may still be alive," he explained, "I've been gone for some time. But they will certainly stand with you against my brother."

"How many are there?" Winston asked.

"There were twenty in total." Victor explained, "My life-mate Rosita will also be willing to stop my brother."

"Life-mate?" Angela questioned, curious by the term.

Victor chuckled and smiled at her. "Werewolves pair for life, Angela."

He glanced up when Moira entered the room, having been called to join them all, despite not being an officer. Situations such as these were different and it was necessary to have her now with them. Angela met her eyes and she gave her a careful smile before taking a seat across from her.

"Something to consider, yes?" Victor whispered, sidelong to Angela.

She glanced at him, somewhat startled by his words. She huffed out an embarrassed noise, her cheeks darkening before she straightened and cleared her throat.

"These werewolves," an officer began, hesitantly, "How well can they be trusted?"

Victor smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, my friend. My pack stood against my brother's offers. They will show you properly how to fight Julian and his. We should go and meet them out in Grunewald."

"Berlin," Ana said, "Interesting. What is your pack doing there?"

"We had to move quickly," Victor explained and his eyes darkened gravely, "Many of us had been killed by my brother's pack. I ordered them to hide away until I tracked Julian down. I would not risk any more of them and I wouldn't see any pups killed. It's fine. We have a family home there."

There were thoughtful murmurs from those at the table. Moira was distracted; it was clear by her shifting and the glancing down at her shoes that her mind was elsewhere other than this discussion. Angela noticed it and her brow knotted. Maybe they could talk about it later.

Especially after the kiss.

Her face felt warmer as she remembered it. What had made her kiss the older woman? Moira must have surely taken her for a fool. But the more she thought about what had happened, the more she began to wonder if it had been there all along - the desire to grow closer to her. She wouldn't deny thinking of Moira while she worked and thought about how the older woman felt. Did she even think the same way?

_Don't be foolish. She surely doesn't._

Angela shook her head ruefully. Still, she would inquire about it to her.

The offer to meet with his pack was still uncertain, but Ana had recommended that they receive proper training from the werewolves. It was only appropriate that they understand how to better protect themselves. They didn't have much time to do so, unfortunately.

O

Moira was washing her hands in the bathroom when Angela joined her.

They were both silent, just cleaning their hands until Angela spoke, albeit awkwardly. "Well, it would seem we're enlisting the aid of werewolves to stop werewolves."

"So it would seem." Moira answered, with an even tone. "Temporarily, mind you."

Angela was silent again, feeling that warmth return now that she was alone with Moira. She sought to ask the question that had been on her mind most of the meeting.

"Would you like to discuss...that?" she questioned, carefully.

"Ah." Moira suddenly looked less confident as she did before, which was always an unusual change to her typical demeanor. She dried her hands beneath the dryer on the wall before she looked at Angela hesitantly. "Yes. Of course."

"Does it bother you?" Angela questioned now, certain she had made a mistake.

"No." Moira finally answered, her pale cheeks darkening slightly. "I am...glad of it, honestly."

"What is it?" Angela could see her hesitation.

"Considering my current condition, I am amazed by your advances at all, Angela."

Angela shook her head, determined. "It doesn't matter to me if you're a werewolf, Moira." she told her, firm in her resolve. "I'm not afraid.

A soft laugh from Moira. She shook her head now, amused. "No, you always were a courageous sort. Perhaps it's..." She hesitated now and looked less like the proud scientist she was wont to be and more like a shy school girl. "I didn't expect this outcome."

Before Angela knew what she was doing, she leaned into Moira. Raising her hands to her shoulders, she let them rest there and the two women met gazes. Moira was watching her with a mixture of curiosity and awe and before she knew what was happening, Angela's lips met with hers.

Moira's eyes closed and she leaned forward, cupping the back of Angela's neck and pulling her flush against her body. Angela gave a murmur of delighted surprise, but melted into her. She didn't know what she was doing, but she had grown more addicted to the kisses and Moira's warmth than she expected.

Those gloriously warm lips rolled so gently over hers and for a moment, she forgot where she was. She had imagined such a scenario countless times before, but she never thought she'd actually get to have it - to finally, FINALLY be able to kiss those lips she'd yearned for for a long time.

It took a moment before they parted and Moira leaned her forehead against hers, strangely breathless, as if she'd run hundreds of miles. Her forehead pinched and she stared at Angela with a mixture of embarrassment and wonder, as if she'd been looking at the other woman for the first time.

Her cheeks were flushed and the smile on her face clenching Angela's chest with pleasant heat.

Angela laughed breathlessly and couldn't help but kiss her again. Moira certainly seemed to grow addicted to those kisses herself as she responded in kind. It seemed as if she too had imagined doing this as her kisses were slow, built with heat and carefully restrained need.

"How long?" Moira suddenly asked, thickly; once they parted.

Angela held the hands that cupped her cheeks, having no idea how they ended up there. She'd been so lost in the sweet, yet scalding kiss from the other woman.

Moira looked at her, still seeking an answer and she laughed softly again, shrugging her shoulders once.

"Since I started working here." she admitted.

Moira smiled a little down at her, brushing her thumb against Angela's bottom lip and trailing aching paths through her back. She seemed almost…relieved to hear her say that.

"And you?" Angela asked.

"…Since you started working here."

Moira looked almost ashamed of herself when she'd responded, but Angela couldn't have been more happy if she tried.

"Really?" she asked. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Honestly, Angela. Did you think of our positions and what that would do?"

Well, yes. Angela had given that some thought when it came to them. She wasn't a fool. But still, the idea that Moira had yearned for her as much as she did overrode any sense of logic.

"Hm, yes, I see." Angela glanced toward the bathroom door, wondering if someone would come in.

"So many restless nights…" Moira admitted, dodging Angela's stare now with shame, "But I have my duties and I couldn't just approach you with my desires."

"Why not?"

Moira rolled her eyes, but the look didn't match the light tone to her voice. "Honestly, Angela. What would you have me do? Call you to my office and confess my feelings over coffee? I'm no dewy-eyed schoolgirl."

Another giggle from Angela. The thought was endearing nonetheless. "Fair enough." She didn't want to move from this moment. It was too perfect. "What should we do now?"

Moira seemed to think about it. Much was on her mind, that was clear. Still, she gave her a smile that seemed remarkably bashful for her, but it quickly went away and she indicated the bathroom door.

"We should leave and worry about our work. For now." she told her. Her voice was softer, more curious. "Perhaps we could discuss it more later?"

Angela found it sweet the way there was a faint glimmer of hope there in her eyes. She certainly couldn't deny it. "Of course. Absolutely."

O

Grunewald had a terrible blizzard the night before.

Overwatch officers trudged through the snow, dressed heavily for the trip and armed just as heavily with their weapons. Moira stayed close to Angela's side and the two shared only fleeting glances, but spoke nothing. A few smiles between them and Moira chuckled quietly, trying to keep her focus on Victor; he was leading them into the forest where his family home resided. It was so amusing how she suddenly felt now that so many new things had come to light between them. She was like a young teenager again, just daring glances down at Angela. Other times, she would laugh and wave them away as silly, trifle things. But it was different here.

Most of them had been wearing thick coats to protect themselves from the cold, but Moira found that she hadn't been in need of one. Victor reminded her that the benefits of lycanthropy included a resistance to weather that humans could not experience. He also shared that training with his pack would help her better control her transformation.

"...Also, you do not want to transform while on the toilet." Victor said, with dismay as he waved a dismissing hand, "Ah, my _ridículo_ cousin Miguel did it on a dare."

Moira made a face. "Why would I transform on the toilet?"

"Point is, _La Loba_; do not change in small places. Whatever is in your path? Well, count it lucky if it survives."

Moira thought about that and glanced briefly to Angela, who held herself and shivered against the cold. She decided to join her side once more.

"How much further, Victor?" an officer questioned.

"Not far now."

Genji exhaled slowly. "I don't trust this." he admitted. "It's too open. There are many advantages this pack could have against us."

Jesse had to agree with that. "He's right. We have to be careful."

Genji glanced over toward Moira and Angela; they were talking together and Moira smiled hesitantly, but a warm blush touched her cheeks. Angela was making a few gestures with her hands and Moira actually chuckled. Jesse caught the ninja's stare and shook his head, patting his shoulder once.

"Hey, don't worry about it," he said, quietly.

"I am not." Genji replied, though he sounded sad, "If Angela is happy, then so am I."

Jesse shook his head with a sigh. "If you say so."

Victor suddenly stopped. He sniffed the air, then raised one hand. "Wait a moment."

They stopped their trek and Moira looked around cautiously. She took a long inhale and glanced quickly to the side when she heard the sound.

An enormous shape surged through the snow; a dark brown werewolf that knocked into Victor. They tumbled across the snow in a flurry of fur, limbs and claws. Everyone shouted at once, their weapons ready and before they could take shots at the new threat, Victor was laughing with delight, pinned beneath the brown werewolf who made happy, eager sounds.

"Ah! Carlos, you _idiota!_" he shouted up at him with glee, "Are you ready to get shot today?"

The brown werewolf seemed happy, eyes lighting up before he shifted back into a young, teenage boy with brown hair and hazel eyes. He was excitedly hugging Victor while the others looked dumbfounded and shaken by the presence of the other werewolf.

"_Tio_ Victor!" he cried, happily, "You're back! You're back! We all thought you were dead!"

"Well, no, not quite," Victor told him; he glanced back at the others briefly before whispering softly to the younger werewolf, "Now, tell your _Tia_ Rosita I'm coming and I have guests. So the whole pack doesn't try to rip them apart, _si_?"

Carlos glanced over at them curiously, but nodded and quickly ran through the snow back in the direction he'd come, naked without a care in the world. Victor smiled with a sigh of pride and shook his head.

"Ahh, the boy's growing up. It wasn't long ago he was a suckling pup." he said.

He glanced back at the others, who grinned with a series of uncomfortable smiles. This would absolutely take some getting used to.

"I need a fucking drink..." an officer in the back muttered.

O

"Now, I should warn you, the house is a little small. It could be cramped."

Moira made a face. "I'm certain that isn't what's on everyone's minds right now." she told Victor, as he explained his living situation to her. "And if these werewolves intend to help us, you'll need to do whatever it takes to ensure that they do not end up dead."

"I have been Alpha my entire life. I am hurt that you'd even question me, _La Loba_."

Moira murmured thoughtfully. Perhaps he had a point.

When they arrived at Victor's home, they were collectively stunned to see that it was not small as he described; it was an enormous Victorian-style home with a stone barrier around it. Several metal posts had been placed in corners of the property - alarm systems, no doubt. Perhaps they were there to keep watch over Julian and his renegade pack.

"Hm, what a lovely home you have, Victor," Moira said.

"Did you expect a cave?" Victor replied, with a grin.

"Well...yes?"

"Hah! The world changes, so we must adapt to it," Victor explained, as they made their way to the front porch.

Before he could open the door, it flew open and an older woman in blue jeans, vest and long-sleeved shirt rushed out, throwing her arms around him. She had long, gray hair, green eyes and a scar across her throat.

The others watched on the front yard. Angela laughed a little, taken by the sight of the woman sharing anxious, but relieved kisses with Victor.

"Does the whole family do that?" she questioned.

Victor smiled tenderly at her and they rubbed cheeks together; once on the left, then on the right and they repeated this several times. It was much like that of wolves, nuzzling one another.

"Rosita, I know, I know," Victor soothed, "But I'm here now."

Rosita looked emotional for a few moments before she scowled and slapped his shoulder, yelling at him in streams of Spanish that was surely explicit. The Overwatch officers watched the scene with embarrassment. Victor was arguing back in Spanish and Rosita bared her teeth, which looked suddenly sharper now.

"...And I was left with the pack all by myself!" Rosita growled now. "You missed Miguel's first Shift!"

Victor raised two hands to calm her. "I know, my love. I know." he reassured her. "But I'm home now. And I have help to deal with the situation with my brother." He gestured now to the watchers. "They are with a human organization who possess the means to help us."

Rosita furrowed her brow, studying each face before she looked at Moira curiously. "Ah, an outside werewolf, eh? Bitten, I assume?"

Moira nodded her head. "I...suppose that's a word for it." she replied, with a grimace.

Rosita smiled kindly now. "Well? Welcome to my home."

They had all gathered in the expansive dining room with several more members of Victor's pack. Moira had been impressed with the board that was covered with holophotos of the news regarding what was surely evidence of Julian's massacre. So the werewolves hadn't been simply sitting by while this happened.

Victor was discussing his plan with the members of the pack and the Overwatch officers. For the most part, most of the werewolves were in support of the idea.

Rosita walked up to her and offered a glass of whiskey. Moira smiled a little. "Thank you." she said, taking the offering.

"You struck me as a whiskey woman," Rosita remarked.

Moira made a sound between a huff and a laugh. "You can smell it on me, no doubt."

"Of course. All my boys enjoy alcohol from time to time," Rosita exhaled, taking a drink from a coffee cup. She paused, reached into her coat and removed a small bottle of schnapps.

Moira watched her, raising an eyebrow. She chuckled. "Well, mother Alpha." she remarked.

"Hey, don't judge, _La Loba_," Rosita said, with a small grin, "It's a full-time job raising these pups. I need a little relief every once in a while."

"Of that, we can agree."

The two were silent, sharing their drinks before Rosita spoke again. "When were you bitten? Did Victor...?"

"No. His brother bit a survivor of a Russian village and that survivor turned, biting me."

Rosita nodded her head sagely. "That's about how it usually works." she replied. She sighed and tilted her head with a tender smile as she watched Victor talking with the others. "My husband was always one to take in strays, I just assumed he blessed you with the bite as he did me."

Moira was surprised. "You're bitten?"

"I am. He taught me how to control it, just as he taught the few in our pack the same way," Rosita explained. "You see little Miguel there on his lap?"

She pointed to a young boy sitting in Victor's lap, laughing with him as they shared funny stories. He had short light brown hair, a pair of blue jeans and no shirt.

"He was too young to remember when humans killed his parents - my brother was his father. Believe me when I said I wanted revenge." Rosita's eyes darkened sadly. "I wanted to kill them for what they did. But Victor? He talked me out of it. He told me I could make it better."

Moira murmured thoughtfully. Perhaps she had assumed wrong about him.

"And what about you? I saw the way you look at that one," Rosita remarked, elbowing her.

"Who?" Moira pretended not to know.

Rosita made a face and gestured toward Angela with a flick of her head. Moira huffed out and refused to look at her. She felt her cheeks heat a little.

"I don't know what you're on about."

Rosita laughed gently. "I know a thing when I see it."

Moira swallowed thickly, a little embarrassed by the observation. Still, she put on airs as always. "We simply kissed. That's all it was."

"Well, it's good to take things slow," Rosita agreed, "But still with the life we wolves have, anything could happen. You should take a chance while you're around to have it."

"And what if she truly doesn't accept it?" Moira sounded tired. "What if I... What if I run her away?"

Rosita smiled at her and gave her a pat on her back. "She's still here, isn't she?"

The logic was there and true; Moira had to agree. Angela had not once recoiled at her touch. She hadn't once shown an ounce of fear. And she knew that being a werewolf now meant that her life came with risks. Perhaps Angela knew that. Surely she knew what it meant. But the younger woman was always one to stand against certain odds. Moira admired that about her.

O

Victor stood outside, facing the Overwatch officers. Beside him stood Carlos, the over-eager werewolf who had tackled into him earlier. He was more than happy to assist with the training. Miguel rushed outside eagerly to join them, but Rosita scooped him up in her arms.

"Ah, ah, you're not ready to join them yet, _mijo_," she chided, "Let's get you inside for a bath."

"Aww!" Miguel protested, as he was carried inside.

Victor smiled now, addressing the officers. "Carlos is more than happy to help demonstrate a few things you need to remember about our kind." he began. "Now I need everyone to pay proper attention, including you, _La Loba._" He met Moira's eyes with a smirk and a wink.

Moira made a face and Angela couldn't help her chuckle.

Victor's arms moved behind his back and he began to pace. "The two most important things to remember are first; never let one of them get behind you. Even in human form, they can get their arms around you and crush you in seconds. Secondly, they can sometimes come at you in pairs. Do not try to go for the kill. It's a trick and you will be brought down."

A few of the offers shifted uncomfortably.

Victor looked at Carlos. "Alright, Carlos. Shift."

Carlos nodded and groaned, doubling over as he shifted into his werewolf form. It was different than Moira; he performed it effortlessly, as if he had been shedding a coat. Everyone backed away as he finished his transformation with a low, deep growl and show of his teeth. It was certainly terrifying, but Carlos sat back on his backside and let out a soft, welcoming sound to ease their minds.

"I'll never get used to that." Jesse muttered, with a shake of his head.

Carlos glanced down at Victor, who gestured to the thick fur beneath his legs.

"Now then, when one of us shifts, we are still vulnerable to damage. Specifically here at the ankles. We put a lot of our energy here to steady ourselves in the change. If you aim low, you'll topple us easily."

Those watching listened intently.

"Now..." Victor gestured to Moira. "An advantage that a bitten werewolf has over us born werewolves is their emotions. They can utilize greater forms of energy than we can because of their human selves still in conflict with their wolf selves; this is part of the reason why I help bitten werewolves learn to adapt to it as pureblood's have. When we shift, we can't maintain our forms long without burning out our strength. Our kind are several times stronger during the earlier months when bitten."

Genji nodded his head once. "I have yet to encounter anyone who can outmatch me in speed. I think I will do fine against these werewolves."

Moira simply rolled her eyes in response.

"Alright," Victor said, backing away a little. "I want Moira to shift and I will do the same. Are all of you all right with that?"

A few hesitant glances and whispers among them. Moira met Angela's stare and the other woman smiled and nodded her reassurance. Jesse didn't seem very sure - he argued a few choice words - but the majority seemed to understand its importance, so they mutually agreed on it. Still, they maintained their readiness with their weapons surely out of self-preservation than anything else.

"Alright, Victor." Genji said, nodding.

Victor smiled and took another several steps back. He looked at Moira. "I want you to focus on everything we do, _La Loba._" he told her. "You're a bitten werewolf. You will be the reason they stay alive."

Moira felt strangely aware of the stares on her. Of course. Even before she became a werewolf, they surely knew that they had been blessed by her knowledge of Genetics, even if they never fully appreciated it. Now she had another 'bonus'. Well, as Victor had often looked at it.

"I'll go first," Victor told her, "Remember what I told you? Find your anchor and hold onto it."

Moira gave a half nod. Yes, she had her anchor.

Victor shifted first; he dipped his head forward with a groan and his body swelled. Thick silver fur shot up from his skin, his eyes glowed a bright blue and claws formed.

Moira hesitantly began to disrobe. A few of those around her averted her eyes and she sighed, blushing somewhat, but making an attempt at boldness.

"I don't want to lose another suit." Moira muttered, her voice quieter.

She set them on the ground beside her before shutting her eyes, trying to ignore the vulnerability that hit her. She knew Angela was looking at her. She could feel it on the back of her head.

Everyone tensed and backed away as Moira began to transform. It was smoother than before; she merely gave a loud grunt, lowered herself onto one knee before her body swelled to twice its size. Red fur sprouted across her back before spreading all around her body.

They waited for a repeating incident as before; Moira snarling, losing focus. But instead, she simply kept her head lowered, her ears flat and her teeth bared. Carlos growled at her softly, a warning. Victor snapped his teeth at Carlos in return before he stepped between them. It seemed that there was a moment of disorientation with Moira, but her clarity returned and she backed away a little, glaring at him.

Victor flicked his head toward Carlos, grunted again and the other werewolf nodded once. He backed away and the two werewolves stepped apart from each other. Moira simply watched them as they charged and began to fight one another. Moira kept a watchful eye on them, her ears flat against her head. The others behind her too observed the way Victor and Carlos fought. Each move seemed carefully performed in slower effort to show weak points in the werewolf body.

Moira's eyes narrowed and she glanced down, surprised to see Angela approach to stand beside her. She blinked slowly, watching the younger woman before rumbling softly, trying to make herself seem more inviting.

"They make it seem so easy," Angela said, quietly.

Moira grunted a sound in response.

"I don't like any of this," Angela continued, with a sad sigh, "The idea that we are resorting to such barbaric methods to end Julian's terror. I wish it didn't have to be this way."

Moira glanced down at her again. She leaned her head into Angela's chest and made another purring noise. Angela looked a little disappointed for a few moments more before she smiled and leaned against the warmth of Moira's body. She drew comfort from her and gently stroked her ears.

"I think I worry mostly for you, Moira." she told the werewolf. Her smile thinned and her eyes darkened in thought. "Those other werewolves? What if something were to happen to you?"

Moira's great brow rose and she met Angela's gaze with her glowing, mismatched ones. The question must have made her think for a moment as she had grown silent and still. She was aware of everyone's stares, but ignored them in place of just allowing herself to enjoy the contact between herself and the younger woman.

Maybe Rosita was right.


	8. Blue Moon

~O~

The night felt particularly chilly.

Victor had extended his home that evening for the members of Overwatch before they had planned their trip to the village they believed would be under attack. Angela had been walking along the side of the house to get some air when Rosita walked up to her.

"Ah, Angela, there you are," she said, "I brought you something."

She held up a cup of hot chocolate and Angela politely took the offering. "Thank you." she told her, "No, really. I appreciate your hospitality. You've been very open to having us."

Rosita smiled. "Well, it's what we do."

"Hm." Angela took a drink of the hot chocolate and murmured with pleasure. "Oh! This is wonderful! I've never had hot chocolate this good in some time!"

"Thank you, _mija_. But really, I came out to talk with you." Rosita continued. Her smile disappeared somewhat. "About _La Loba._ The good doctor."

"Oh?" Angela's cheeks darkened a little, less from the biting cold now. "What about her?"

Moira had been nearby, practicing what to say to Angela to herself.

"Ah, yes, Angela," she mumbled, under her breath, "I was thinking, perhaps, when this debacle is behind us, you and I could..."

She paused when she heard the two women talking ahead of her. She paused, leaned her head out somewhat to hear. She couldn't help it, really.

"I want you to know what it means to be with one of our kind," Rosita told her, "Most of us believe we're better than humans." She uttered a sentence in Spanish and shook her head. "But we're just as fragile as you - maybe even more than that. Moira's life isn't infinite. Don't ever listen to those stories humans write up about us. I just want you to know what that could mean in the future."

Angela sighed. "I know."

Moira furrowed her brow at the sound of her tone.

"Truthfully, Rosita? I don't know if I have what Moira needs to make her happy."

"Why do you say that?"

"She has a good future as a brilliant Geneticist. I don't want to be the one who hinders that."

Moira was surprised by her words. She stood there, mouthing what she said in disbelief. Angela believed herself to be less than worthy of her? Well, that was absolutely absurd of her to even think about that. It was Moira who felt that way, especially given her current condition. What a ridiculous assessment.

"But you do want to try, don't you?" Rosita asked.

"I do."

Moira felt herself smiling a little, unable to stop the shudder of pleasant delight. She hadn't expected Angela's confirmation, but it had been one Moira had rather hoped for. It was a good deal for her to think about.

She glanced down at her shoes before turning and walking into the house. Well, there was no reason for them to see her there.

"I wouldn't mind a moment to myself, however," Angela continued, "I need to clear my head a bit."

"Okay." Rosita agreed, with a nod, "I'm sure this has been a lot to take in today. But don't be out here for too long. I'm cooking dinner for you and your friends tonight. It's been a while since I had to cook meat, but I'm sure I'll remember the way to do it. Carlos' human friends were over only a few months ago for some beef stew. I'm sure I won't burn it this time."

Angela chuckled and watched her go. Then, she sighed heavily through her nose before wandering into the woods for a moment. It was quiet now and rather peaceful; she had to collect her thoughts after everything that had happened, and this seemed like the perfect time to do so. The existence of werewolves proven, Moira one of them. It was quite a lot for anyone, really.

Of course. Moira.

She felt her chest clench with heat at the thought of her. How often had she spent her days with the woman on her mind? She never truly knew why until they had shared that kiss. Twice. Perhaps she had always known, really; it had been in the back of her mind, always whispering in those secret corners. But in the end, it still left her wondering about the future once the matter with Julian was resolved. Surely there would be difficulties if they tried to make the matter public and maybe there would be those who would fight to see Moira removed from Overwatch.

It would be a problem, for certain.

She could only hope otherwise.

An abrupt snapping of a branch caused Angela's head to sharply turn to her left. She furrowed her brow and her eyes wandered around the woods. Immediately, her instincts were on full alert and she carefully drew out her pistol from her boot. She loathed using it, but it was necessary for protection sometimes. Her senses told her there was danger nearby and she didn't know how long she'd spent walking and thinking.

From the thick brush, a set of yellow, angry eyes watched her.

An enormous, snarling form lunged out from the brush, scattering Angela from it. She looked up, eyes widening at the sight of a grey werewolf crouched there with yellow eyes, a scar over its upper lip and a finger missing. It roared at her and lunged, teeth and claws flashing.

Angela quickly flipped backwards when its claws slashed before she took a shot at its face. A blast from her pistol ripped its cheek open in a spray of blood and it snarled loudly now, enraged. She turned and ran and the creature gave chase, running after her on two legs before dropping to four.

She quickly scaled a tree as soon as she saw an opening; she seized a branch, lifted herself and twisted her legs up mere seconds before the werewolf could clamp its teeth down onto her.

"_Scheisse!_" Angela cried, wide, frightened eyes watching as it paced around the tree.

The werewolf swiped its claws up at her, spitting and slavering wildly. It grabbed the branch she was perched on and the force of its weight swayed Angela where she crouched. She struggled to keep her balance, but stumbled forward and fell flat to the ground.

Pain shot up from Angela's head when she made contact with the cold, icy snow. Her mouth pooled with blood and just as the werewolf crouched to attack, a red form lunged into it with a fierce snarl and she looked up, dazed to see Moira in werewolf form, tearing her claws into the other with all the ferocity of an animal.

Their angry snarls were loud, vicious and piercing in the night. Moira grabbed the werewolf by the throat with one clawed hand before slashing her other claws across its face, tearing hideous gashes through its flesh. When it tried to go for Angela again, she crouched in front of the woman, raising her haunches and letting out an enraged noise with a show of fangs.

The sound stunned Angela for a second and Moira glanced back at her, features relaxing only once to reassure the younger woman. Then, she furrowed her brow, glanced at the other werewolf, then to Angela before her features twisted with rage once more. Something seemed to occur to her - Angela had been the target. Her teeth snapped, her eyes widened and she let out a thunderous growl.

The werewolf stepped back a few paces, seemingly unsure of what to do about the new threat for a few minutes before it made the choice to charge once more. Moira charged right back with a fierce hiss and both werewolves were locked violently in combat. Claws cut into Moira's sides as the werewolf struggled to dislodge her from its back.

Genji and Jesse were rushing up to the scene, helping Angela stand. She grunted in pain, touching her mouth, still shining with her blood.

"Angela!" Genji exclaimed, studying her worriedly, "Are you alright?"

"Y-yes!" Angela gasped out, hissing sharply in pain. "I just cut my lip a little. I - Moira!"

Almost immediately, two more werewolves rushed into the scene - a silver one and a black one. But when Angela feared they would overrun Moira; they instead rushed the other werewolf, prying it from the red one with several angry snarls and hisses. The noises were loud, deafening and chaotic.

The silver werewolf sank its teeth deep into the neck of the enemy werewolf while the black one helped in sinking claws into its chest and together, the creature was viciously ripped apart by both. The sight was utterly gruesome and forced the watchers to look away from it.

Blood soaked the snow-covered ground and the two werewolves shifted back into the forms of Rosita and Victor. He scowled angrily, turned to Angela and quickly moved to see to her injuries.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his eyes still a glowing bright blue.

Angela averted her eyes at his nakedness. "Oh! Oh, yes, I'm fine. Thanks to Moira."

Rosita glared down at the corpse of the werewolf, hissing out. "_Hijo de perra!_" she spat, "What's this stray doing here on our land?"

"I don't know. I don't recognize his smell," Victor told her, studying the dead body at his feet. It was a man now, an older one. He was a German native. "He's bitten. Not long ago, either."

"Probably some _lame botas_ to Julian," Rosita added, with a scowl, "Julian must have bitten him and he came to find us."

Moira had all but shifted back and she let out several deep, low groans. She was immediately helped to her feet by Rosita and Angela's eyes widened in horror at the sight of the gruesome slashes across Moira's side and teeth marks on her shoulder. Moira shook her head reassuringly when she felt the younger woman at her side.

"I'm fine, Angela, I'm fine," she breathed.

Angela truly looked distraught at the sight of her condition, but Rosita reassured her. "It's alright, _ querida,_" she said, "She'll heal these wounds in no time. I'm going to get her a shower ready."

Victor looked up at Genji and Jesse as they studied the dead man laying there.

"Christ..." Jesse said, with dismay.

"He's not teaching them anything," Victor said, sadly, "He's turning them and letting them run loose." He bared his teeth, which were still dangerously sharp. "We need to get to that village and stop him."

"Yeah, you ain't kidding," Jesse looked beyond his shoulder to Moira being led back toward the house. His features softened at the sight of Angela joining them, still worried about her. "Hm. She saved her life, at least. If she hadn't been like that, who knows what could have happened to the doc."

"Yes." Genji agreed, his tone hollow.

O

Moira let the water rush over her head.

The bathroom was lovely; it was clearly well taken care of, lined with soaps, towels on wooden shelves build into the walls, a glass-door shower with a deep tub for her to sit in. The pack here surely took care of their home and Moira had to admire them for that.

The water felt soothing as she leaned against the porcelain wall, forehead pressed to the tiles, on her knees as she was still wracked with violent shivers. Rosita had been right about one thing; most of her wounds had completely healed, but her body was still wracked with aches and pains.

She heard a tentative knock at the door and didn't respond until Angela's careful voice filled the air.

"Moira? It's Angela." she said, "May I come in?"

"You may." Moira replied, her throat croaking out her words.

Angela opened the door and stepped inside. She walked to the edge of the bathtub and regarded Moira's naked form clinically, but her cheeks were still darkened at the sight of pale, freckled skin; it was more than she was ever used to seeing from her so close.

"I'm fine, Angela," Moira assured her, when she noticed the younger woman touch her back to observe what she expected would be gruesome wounds, but they were gone, "Truly. I'm just a little sore. I did go toe-to-toe with a werewolf for the first time."

She looked at Angela's lip. "And what about you? Does it hurt?"

Angela shook her head, touching two fingers gingerly to her lower lip. "It bled for a little, but I'm fine. But you saved my life, Moira. I don't know what would have happened had you not shown up when you did. It could have been so much worse than my lip."

Moira sighed through her nose. She shivered again and Angela glanced up at the shower head pouring out a gentle stream before she held her hand under it. The water was hot enough, but Moira's convulsions surely came from the fight and not a chill.

"I was supposed to let that thing kill you?" she finally said, after a few moments. Her tone took on a mildly warmer note. "I won't allow it. A pity I didn't see the look on the mutt's face when those two alpha's pulled him apart."

Angela made a face, but just chuckled anyway when she saw Moira's satisfied smile. Then, she noticed the grime and dirt still lingering in Moira's hair and back. She glanced toward a nearby shelf and retrieved a cloth before holding it beneath the warm water. She reached up to place the rag against Moira's back, but a visceral shudder from the woman brought forth a calming sound from Angela.

"Shhh, it's okay, Moira." she soothed, "Let me."

Moira stared at her, features a mask of uncertainty and wanting. She cleared her throat, but nodded once. The gesture was rather stiff, and perhaps a little nervous too. But she allowed the gentle, comforting stroke of the cloth against her back and she stiffened only once more before stilling.

"The village is a little place in Spain." Angela spoke first to ease Moira's discomfort a bit and to help calm herself as well. This felt intimate. Entirely more intimate than she thought. "They believe Julian will be there with his pack. Victor thinks you're ready. I think you are."

Moira shivered and shut her eyes, allowing Angela an opportunity to scrub the dirt on her arm. What was meant to be a simple matter of cleaning her, sent a stab of vulnerability in Moira's belly. But also a more curious feeling that accompanied with it warmth and a clench between her thighs.

"Oh! Here's some soap," Angela said, her voice softer as she pilfered a bottle of something lavender. "That would probably help, yes?"

She chuckled nervously and prompted Moira to talk a little more as she cleaned her. One of her arms was promptly lifted up and lathered with such tenderness, yet a small measure of caution. Moira gave a quiet sound of approval, relaxing into the touch. Angela worked her fingers through the muscles of her arms, then shoulder, all the while savoring the sounds Moira made in response.

"I don't really know how I feel when I become that creature," Moira said, hesitantly, "Everything is...so utterly heightened. There is an unusual awareness that I never thought achievable to human beings. It's gradually become both welcoming and frightening."

"Frightening?" Angela was surprised by the confession as it wasn't often Moira admitted to fear. She paused in her ministrations only for a moment. "I've never heard you admit to being afraid of anything before."

"Just because I don't admit it, doesn't mean I don't feel some measure of doubt, Angela." Moira argued, quietly.

The touch of Angela's hand stirred her to new sensitivity; she leaned against it, continuing to rumble out some rather lovely noises as the younger woman worked her soapy hands into the taut muscles of her shoulders and eventually, her back.

"Of course." Angela finally said, "I didn't mean anything by it."

Moira sighed softly, but a sliver of thunder and smoke filled the pitch of it. When Angela glanced over her shoulder briefly, Moira peeked at her from the corner of her eye; the soft smile on her face, the warm way her eyes took in the sight of her. What could such a woman see in something like her? It had been on her mind for the duration of the mission and even spurred her to act out and save Angela from the other werewolf. She was doing things she never thought she'd do.

"I wonder if Rosita may have some medicine for you," Angela said, breaking her thoughts for a moment, "Werewolves seem to be warmer than most, but I can imagine that they aren't entirely immune to the common cold."

She started to rise, but Moira gently placed a hand over hers and Angela blinked, surprised by the contact, but more so that Moira had initiated it. She met the mismatched stare that had darkened two different shades and the look that followed stirred heat in her chest.

Moira glanced down at the contact of their hands, swallowed hard before she asked almost tentatively.

"Would you...like to stay with me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Angela's eyes widened at the question, her stomach dropped and she felt her cheeks warm in a deep shade of crimson. She huffed out a sound and Moira suddenly felt embarrassed by her question. She cleared her throat, lowered her eyes and shook her head, trying to maintain a semblance of pride. But it was Angela's voice, soft yet certain that calmed her racing heart.

"I'd like that." she told her.

Moira's breathless smile tugged at her heart and she leaned closer, her breathing stopped when Angela moved her head closer as well, lowering her eyelids halfway that made her look quite tired. The older woman slowly, gently reached up and cupped her face, moving her lips closer to Angela's; the other woman shuddered and swallowed thickly to calm herself. Moira's mouth was barely against hers and she took another second of hesitating before she finally pressed her lips to hers.

The appreciative murmur that Angela uttered against her mouth, the way she melted into her was also something that tugged at her control. It wasn't really her fault. It had been so terribly long...

When they finally managed to find the strength to part, they were both still breathless and leaned their foreheads together; Moira still cupped her chin in one hand, gently running her thumb lightly against Angela's bottom lip, leaving a pleasant tingle in its wake.

"Angela..." Moira's whisper of her name was so soft, it was barely audible against the rush of water.

Their mouths met again, though this time, with renewed vigor; Moira's breathless sounds, Angela's soft responses before the younger woman's fingers ran through Moira's hair. She grew lost in the building sensations between them far too fast. This was so very nice and she certainly wanted much more.

The longer they kissed and touched one another, the greater the urgency between them grew. Their lips practically devoured one another and their breathless exhalations between each one - Moira's gasps and Angela's pleasured rumbling sounds - fanned the flames dancing between them.

Angela finally managed to pull herself apart and cup Moira's cheeks, staring at the darkened, mismatched eyes watching her. It had been a long time since she had allowed herself in someone's bed - well, in this particular case, the bath - and she found that the way Moira looked at her with such awe and thrill helped relax her. It was endearing the way she smiled, the curious tilt of her head and the wanton glint in her eye held her so appreciatively as she pulled away and began to undress herself.

Moira hadn't looked away, even for a moment. When Angela turned away to deposit her slacks on the toilet, she heard a soft gasp behind her and smiled, trying to look as seductive as possible. But her eyes, her shaky breath and her blush didn't quite do it enough justice. It was so utterly arousing and empowering to be looked at in such a way as Moira was looking at her.

"Oh? Do you like what you see, doctor?" she teased, affectionately.

"I do indeed." Moira said, with a smirk that did very little to hide the blush that spread across her cheeks and ears.

Angela felt so utterly exposed to Moira's gaze and never so vulnerable until now. She raised an eyebrow, tilted her chin up and gestured for Moira to move forward in the tub so that she could have room to join her.

"Sit forward," she said.

"Hm? Oh." Moira looked a little surprised for a moment, but she was far too curious to see where this would go. So she complied and scooted forward to allow Angela to join her.

She felt a few kisses against the skin of her back and Angela's hand on the washcloth on her forearm. A deep shiver ran through her body and she looked down, watching the younger woman soap up the cloth again before washing her shoulders. It was a relaxing, yet stimulating gesture that drew a soft murmur of appreciation from Moira's throat.

"Well, this is certainly not what I anticipated," Moira said, her voice a whisper of smoke. "But it's welcome."

"Is it?" Angela's voice carried a happy smile. "I should hope so. I want to take my time, do you?"

"Do we have a lot of that?"

"Victor extended his home to us for the night," Angela assured her, hand soaping up Moira's smaller breasts slowly, methodically; it drew a gasp from the older woman that made Angela shudder with anticipation, "We have all the time in the world."

"And do you intend to simply wash me for the duration?" Moira's voice pricked up with lust and amusement.

Angela laughed softly. "Only you would complain about such things."

Perhaps it was also an attempt to steel Moira's nerves; the older woman often used quips and her share of sarcasm to ease whatever discomfort she found herself in. After all, Angela was plenty nervous herself. They were here together, intimately in a way they never thought they'd be. Taking things very slowly was certainly a must, but the anticipation threatened them both.

The older woman quietly grunted at the touch, turned her head down to Angela for a kiss. She met her lips quite readily, continuing to massage Moira's breasts. Her fingers stroked her nipples, having Moira squirm pleasantly at the touch. Well, that was a delightful reaction, so she sought to earn it again.

And earn it and more she did; Moira squirmed with another wanting sound in her throat. Angela's free hand stroked her thigh before tentatively moving further inside. She encouraged Moira to relax with a few kisses against her spine - somehow wishing she could kiss every little freckle she saw - and finally, Moira tilted her knee to one side to give Angela more inviting access.

When Moira felt her hand right where she needed her, she groaned out a heated noise this time that could make a room of women blush. Angela's fingers were soft, gingerly stroking over her hot, damp folds; she brushed them on either side of her clit with slow, gentle caresses. She could hear Moira breathing heavily now, whispering out something that she nearly missed.

"Mmm, Angela...finally."

Well, Angela certainly didn't want to keep her waiting. She wanted it to last and cherish Moira this way - vulnerable and wanting, but neither one of them seemed eager to wait.

She set to work exploring the most delicate part of her, fingers playing at the rough bud of her clit and earning a louder, delicious moan for her efforts. Encouraging Angela for more with soft whispers from her lips, Moira twitched her hips up in time with her caress. She leaned her head down as much as she could to share a kiss with her. When they parted, Moira's features pinched, lips parting in several rapid pants.

"Yes?" Angela breathed.

"Yes!" Moira groaned out.

Leaning her forehead against Angela's, Moira's voice was lost in a stream of beautiful moans, lips forming nearly inaudible words as Angela continued to rub her fingers against her. Her unfocused eyes never left Angela's and she thickly grunted out her name when two fingers filled her.

Short, fast thrusts into her wrought forth sounds from Moira's lips that Angela grew so very addicted to. The way her eyes darkened, the parting of her lips, the smile of want; Moira had never looked so lovely as she did now.

It wasn't too long before she felt Moira's thighs jerk in time with her thrusts; the telltale clench around her fingers signaled that she was close, and Angela didn't want to miss it.

"It's alright," Angela soothed, kissing Moira's lips when she noticed her try to duck her head to the side to avoid being seen in such a vulnerable way. "Go ahead, Moira." She continued to whisper encouragements to her, hoping that it would help the older woman finally let go.

"A-Angela..." Moira hissed out, her voice shaky. Oh, she was close.

"Yes, there you go," Angela crooned, kissing her shoulder when she felt the other woman begin to unwind in her arms. She didn't stop her rhythm. "Go ahead. Come for me."

Angela saw Moira's features twist, and she looked as if she was close to weeping. It was such a startling change to her usual expressions, but a welcome one. She stiffened, bucking her hips a little more roughly before she did just as Angela had encouraged.

It took a moment after she came for her that Moira collected herself with a few gulps of air. She gave a breathy laugh when Angela withdrew her fingers to lightly caress her abdomen before meeting her eyes.

"I'm sorry."

Angela raised her eyebrows. "What for?"

"That was...quick." Moira looked a bit abashed by that. "It's just been a while, and I - "

Angela kissed the back of her neck with a warm chuckle. "Oh, don't worry about that," she assured her, "You can make it up to me when we get to bed."

O

Having a freshly showered Moira lying in bed like a contented lioness was such a wonderful sight.

She looked cool, confident and quite alluring as she gathered Angela in her longer arms, pulling her flush against her body. While arousing, the warmth of Moira's body was immensely comforting. Being a werewolf, Angela had become aware of how much heat her body generated now. She could certainly reap the benefits of it that cold evening.

Moira's long fingers cupped one of her breasts, massaging the flesh gently before giving it a little kiss. Angela squirmed pleasantly, uttering soft whimpers as Moira's tongue played at the darker skin of her nipples. A self-satisfied murmur was her response from the older woman as she drew one of her nipples into her mouth for a nice long suck.

It sent stabs of heat straight to Angela's thighs and she bit out Moira's name between gasps of heat. Moira murmured inquisitively now and looked up at her from her task; the look was so incredibly erotic that Angela would have come undone from it alone had it not been for Moira's long fingers clutching her backside and holding her tightly against her.

The older woman sat up, sharing a kiss with Angela that was nothing short of teeth and tongue before turning her so that she could lay on her back. Angela watched her with rapt attention, biting her lower lip when Moira peppered her with warm, open-mouthed kisses against her abdomen.

"You wanted me to make it up to you, Angela," Moira purred, voice low, "I intend to do so. Thoroughly."

Angela realized her intent and groaned softly when Moira coaxed her thighs over her shoulders. Satisfied with her compliance, Moira smiled and kissed the skin of her inner thighs. Her fingers wrapped around Angela's legs, holding her steady. Angela gasped out, clenching her teeth hard when that mouth close over her and the temperature in the room grew into a blazing inferno.

"Yes, Moira!" Angela managed to groan out her name.

Moira wasted no time. Her mouth sucked, her tongue licked. She parted her lips over her wet cunt and suckled at the sensitive nub of her clit.

Angela's jaw dropped in a low, throaty groan and she shook from the sensations. Her thighs jumped only the slightest in time with Moira's ministrations. The rhythm was relentless, eager to please with no end and the sight of Moira between her thighs, coupled with the intensity of her efforts had her pleasure building fast. Angela didn't want it to end so quickly, but the sight threatened to undo her.

Moira chuckled, the sound vibrating pleasantly against her. The lewd sounds of her attentions, accompanied by Angela's breathless pleas for more filled the room.

The older woman paused only once, glancing up to find Angela watching her with flushed cheeks, parted lips and a heaving chest. A crooked smirk lit Moira's lips. She kissed the inside of Angela's thigh, licking a torturous trail up and down before straightening, setting her legs down so that she could loom over her.

Angela wrapped her arms around Moira's shoulders instinctively. Her legs circled Moira's waist and the older woman loomed over her, balancing herself with one arm over Angela's head. She leaned her head down and Angela had a lovely view of her darkened eyes, parted lips and flushed cheeks.

Not breaking eye contact, Moira's hand became lost between Angela's legs, she leaned up a little more, taking one leg with her.

Angela's breath hitched with anticipation, before she exhaled a whimper when she felt herself filled with two fingers. The waiting and the buildup left her more than ready for it.

"M-Moira," Angela gasped out.

Moira sighed with pleasure, taking a moment to savor the feel of the younger woman clenching tightly around her fingers. She trailed scorching patterns down the length of Angela's neck with her lips, feeling her pulse hammering against her mouth.

"Yes, Angela," Moira rasped, her breathing rough with renewed lust, "Yes."

Angela's hips twitched impatiently for more and Moira obliged her, fingers moving slow and gently inside of her. The younger woman leaned her head back, lips forming wordless sounds and eyelashes fluttering as those long, thin fingers filled her so tenderly, so sweetly. She hadn't expected such a pace, but it was so very good.

Moira sucked the skin of her neck, leaving a generous reddened mark that she could admire later. Angela had grown impatient beneath her, squirming and trying to achieve more friction. Moira obliged her, placing kisses against her neck as she thrust her hand harder. She panted heavily against Angela's ear, savoring the beautiful stream of moans that burst from Angela's lips.

When she questioned if she could add another finger, Angela immediately whispered out a lust-filled "yes".

At that, Moira added another finger and she thrust her hand once more, reaching a spot deep within. It caused Angela to hoarsely call her name and she began to pant; and there was just something about THAT - hearing her name called from Angela's lips like that was the most exquisite thing Moira had ever heard.

"M-Moira..." Angela gasped, her voice light with impending orgasm. "I-I can't I'm - "

Moira lifted her head from her neck, eager to see the lovely expression on her face. "Mmm, are you coming for me, Angela?"

"Oh, I'm - Oh, yes!"

Moira worked her fingers in faster for her. "Good..." she hissed, her beautiful voice straining, "Let me see, Angela. Let me see you come."

Angela certainly didn't have to be told twice. After a few moments of squirming in Moira's arms, fingers kneading the back of her neck; she stiffened suddenly and came apart with a soft cry, which Moira smothered with her lips against her. She wanted to remember the way Angela had looked for her, how she felt when she was brought over the edge by her alone.

O

Angela pulled Moira into her arms, placing a chaste kiss against her forehead. Their eyes met and Angela gave a breathy chuckle, to which Moira responded with one of her own. Angela tucked a little strand of red hair behind Moira's ear before she stared at her with awe. Moira rested her chin between her breasts and looked quite pleased with her handiwork.

Angela touched her fingertips to Moira's cheeks, cherishing that tired, but happy look on the older woman's face. She still couldn't imagine herself ending here with her, despite those restless nights of dreaming it. She couldn't imagine the creature that waited beneath her skin. None of this was what she had imagined, but she welcomed it anyway. She welcomed her readily.

Moira kissed the palm of her hand, closing her eyes. Then, she glanced over her shoulder briefly and a contemplative look lit her face. She looked troubled then before glancing down at Angela.

"I could leave, if you want," she said, quietly.

Angela shook her head, running her fingers through Moira's hair. "Don't be silly, Moira. Stay with me."

Moira smiled a bit before she nodded. "If that's what you want."

"It is."

Angela tucked her arms behind Moira's shoulders, pulling her into her chest so that they could properly get comfortable together. Moira sighed softly, closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep at the sensation of Angela's fingers gently caressing her shoulders.


	9. Bad Moon Rising

~O~

Angela awoke in the bed alone.

She looked around and found Moira gone. Furrowing her brow, she sat up, stretched and rubbed her eyes before stretching. Maybe Moira had gotten up early. She was wont to do that when she wanted to get started on her work. Or so Lena liked to tell her. Maybe she was downstairs with the other werewolves getting ready for their mission to the village in Spain.

She dressed herself and ventured downstairs, surprised to find Moira already working in the kitchen with Rosita. She had a little travel laboratory kit laid out on the table and a few more werewolves were watching her at work with curiosity. Moira was pouring a nice-smelling mixture in a few bottles and occasionally murmured to herself simple equations.

"Oooh, why does it smell so nice?" Carlos asked, hovering over Moira to look.

"Victor informed me that Julian can smell all of you before you get close enough to him, which results in his fleeing," Moira explained, "The flowers Rosita keeps in her garden were imported from Spain. The rest of you will put this on you to block your scent and hopefully, it will keep Julian from tracking you."

Another werewolf curled his nose. "This is either the craziest idea, or the most brilliant."

Moira smiled, raising her chin at the assessment. "Quite amazing how those two coincide when it comes to science." she said.

Carlos reached for a bottle to investigate it and Moira slapped his hand. He recoiled with a yelp and she shook her head. "Don't touch, please."

Angela chuckled, shaking her head before she joined them. "So, the plan is to hide ourselves and smell like flowers. Quite a plan, Doctor O'Deorain."

Moira smiled a little, pouring the contents of a cylindrical beaker into a few bottles. "I appreciate your input on the matter, Doctor Ziegler."

Victor stepped into the kitchen now and sniffed the air before he glanced down at the bottles. "Oh! I know that smell," he said, "The flowers from Rosita's garden."

"Yes, she told me she had something planned to keep the pack alive," Rosita explained, to her husband, "I hope it works. My garden looks like Miguel ate them again."

Moira huffed impatiently and stared upwards when he too reached for one of her bottles. She scowled at every werewolf and pushed them out of her way.

"Alright. Anyone who is a werewolf, leave the kitchen until I'm finished with my work," she snapped, "I will gladly inform you of my plan at our debriefing when everyone else is awake."

They departed with a few choice words in Spanish, but seemed to understand enough. Moira shook her head with dismay before she glanced down at Angela, who couldn't help but laugh softly. Moira managed a small smirk, looked over her shoulder for a moment before she continued to pour.

"I'm sorry for leaving before you woke," she told her, almost whispering, "I had to begin my work."

"I understand. Still, it would have been lovely to wake up to you." Angela understood the severity of the work that needed to be done.

Moira looked at her for a moment and her features smoothed out. She felt a touch of warmth touch her cheeks when Angela leaned against her arm. After last night, it had been on her mind what they did together. It had certainly changed things, but it had been welcome. They could discuss where it would go - if it would go anywhere, Moira certainly hoped so - after the matter with Julian had been resolved.

Angela leaned against her and Moira tilted her head, gently rubbing her nose against Angela's cheek. The sensation was soft, so very tender; it cascaded ribbons of heat through the surface of her skin. But still, work had to be done and Moira pulled away with a quiet gasp, snapping back to reality.

"What ARE you planning?" Angela questioned, looking down at the bottles. Her breath shuddered out of her somewhat; she still felt her skin prickling.

"Well..." Moira began, pleased to explain it to her and eager to change the subject rather quickly, "There are flowers that grow in Deià, Mallorca - the same ones that Rosita has growing in her garden. She keeps them for sentimentality reasons, I suppose. These werewolves rely solely on their animal instincts instead of their humanity and that will prove to be their undoing. We have science on our side."

She picked up one of the bottles and sprayed a little on her wrist. "These crushed flowers will mask the scent of the other werewolves of our...well...pack." She said it primly and made a face before continuing. "We cover their tracks and I apply one of my own devices to suit my needs in the other form."

"Like what?" Angela was too curious not to ask.

"I'll show you." Moira's grin was suddenly devious.

O

The werewolves who had chosen to go with Victor and the Overwatch team consisted of Carlos, Alejandro, and seven more. Moira displayed one of the bottles to the werewolf in front of her. He sniffed it and wrinkled his nose at the smell. Moira raised an eyebrow at the expression.

"I know. A little proper grooming is frightening, isn't it?" she said, in a dry note.

The werewolf sighed before giving her a dirty frown. "I didn't volunteer to come for your remarks, _perra._"

"Anyway," Moira continued, looking at the rest, "This will help mask your scents as we make our way into the village. If what Victor says is true, Julian will be there in the night with the intent to stage a surprise attack on the people. We will hide ourselves from him and stop the pack before they make any effort to complete their plan."

Jesse and Genji, for once, had no argument.

"So we make these dogs smell pretty, and then what?" Jesse asked, "We can't really have those people in the village see them. Hell, I'm still trying to wrap my head around all this."

"I've thought of that as well." Moira explained, proud of her plan and more than ready with every answer, "We evacuate the village ahead of schedule; we plan on issuing a false report that will send the people away until then. None of them will be made aware of the existence of werewolves. We can only count on the citizens' compliance, of course."

It seemed that it was a solid enough plan and it was the only one that they really had going for them, at the moment. The only thing that they were not quite sure of was if Julian would even be there, but Victor was certain that he would be. He had been tracking his brother for a long time before Moira had taken him in for study - which he had still kept a secret from the others. Julian had a pattern to his attacks.

Before they departed for the drop-ship, Moira had spoken with Victor alone, curious about why he hadn't told anyone about her experiments on him. He was fitting a thin shirt over his head and didn't answer at first. He considered something, glanced at her briefly before he shrugged. It had been a strange and sudden question, but one he had clearly thought about for a while.

"We have more important things to worry about right now than the past." he told her. Then, he smiled and shook his head. "It would have made things harder than they needed to be. If I had told them, you would have been scrutinized by your little friends and the doctor you care for. Couldn't risk having you put out to pasture when we needed you."

Moira thought about that. Perhaps it made sense.

Victor turned to her now. He smirked and raised an eyebrow. "So things seemed to have gone well with you and the doc, eh?"

Moira's blush lit her cheeks now.

He chuckled and gave her an approving nod. "Good for you." he said, "The life of a werewolf isn't certain. Always make that move when you can."

He whistled a song to himself as he walked passed her to join the others. Moira thought about his words, made a contemplative hum before her mind went to Angela. He wasn't wrong about that; the risks that came with her new life would be filled with uncertainty and doubt. She still didn't know what would happen after all of this. Once it was over and done with, what would become of her?

O

They rode along in the drop-ship, discussing the coastal village and what they would plan for when they entered the forest in the night. Moira had a little something she had prepared for her werewolf form to make it specifically to 'her tastes'.

Angela walked into the forest where the wolves were positioned and looked around for signs of Moira. She spotted the red shape crouched in a nearby tree and she brightened, walking up to it. When she got close enough, she noticed a few straps and tubes connected to Moira's back. A machine was also strapped to it and Angela's eyes widened at the familiar sight of it.

"Oh! This is what you were planning," she said, "Your machine in this form?"

Moira looked down at her and gave a low, heavy grunt in response. Even without human features, there was a certain way her eyes glittered with pride. Moira had taken the device she had used during her missions and altered it to suit this form. She didn't know how it would function, but she knew she would see it soon enough.

She dressed in her Valkyrie suit, kept her wings extended to take flight at the first sign necessary.

Moira reached down with one large hand of dangerous claws and Angela glanced down at the offering, then to the wolfish features staring at her. Moira tilted her head with an inviting purring sound and Angela smiled, climbed into the offered hand and she was lifted up to the tree with Moira.

Being so close to her, she was comforted almost by the heat of her fur, the smell of it coupled with the scent of the flower spray she'd concocted. Angela shut her eyes, leaning against Moira's thick, furry arm. The werewolf grunted softly, comforting her with a little tap of her long nose against her back.

"Mmm, I want you to be safe out there, Moira," Angela said, quietly. Her voice was carrying a bit of apprehension to it now. "I know what we're about to do is dangerous. Promise me you'll be safe."

Moira looked at her, growling softly and lowering her ears. She nudged her again with her nose and Angela made an appreciative noise, wrapping her arm as much as she was able to around her. Moira shut her eyes, still purring softly against Angela's smaller form.

Despite the unusual feeling, Angela decided that this was nice. Moira was still there inside that enormous shape of red fur. She was in control and aware of who she was and the younger woman knew that she would not be harmed. Angela felt oddly at peace in the werewolf's arms and it was a strange level of trust she never thought she'd feel with her.

Moira abruptly lifted her head now, her ears raising and a growl rose up from her throat. Angela looked in the direction she was, frowning worriedly.

"What is it? Are they here?" she whispered.

Moira looked at her before gently lowering her to the ground. She gave her a light push away with the back of her hand and Angela nodded in understanding.

"Of course." she said. "But please, be safe. I will think of you while we're out there."

Moira grinned, showing her teeth. Oh, she would have no problems at all.

O

The Overwatch officers were stationed in the empty village. Evacuating the people proved to work just as Moira had said it would. Now, they didn't have to worry about civilians being caught in the crossfire. Their only concern was the fact that they were unaware of how many werewolves they would encounter.

Genji was kneeling on the rooftop of a baked good shop. He had his hand at his sword handle and he scanned the horizon. Jesse was beside him, murmuring thoughtfully. He was anxious, unable to sit still for too long as he began to pace.

"I don't like this," he said, "I don't like it at all."

"Neither do I," Genji added, "Be vigilant, Jesse. The night is going to be long."

The sounds of howling in the distance had everyone in their positions on guard. The werewolves hiding in the forest nearby reacted to the sounds. Victor had been fully transformed and his eyes flashed a brighter blue before he bared his teeth, snarling softly.

They were coming.

The village gates had been barricaded with everything that they could find, but the sounds of heavy thumping behind them had the Overwatch officers readying their weapons. On the outskirts of the village, Victor and the others were waiting, tense and ready to kill.

The barricade was jolted several times before abruptly ripped down into splinters from the force. It took mere seconds afterwards before several werewolves surged through. Gunfire opened up on them and it became chaos as the humans and werewolves fought to overcome one another.

A werewolf pinned one soldier, who screamed, mere seconds before Genji's form blurred through the air and sliced the werewolf's head clean off. Its decapitated form collaped to the ground where it then reverted into the shape of a human. The soldier was shaken and helped to his feet by Genji.

"It's not over yet." Genji told him, "Be quick!"

"Thank you!" the soldier gasped, grateful.

It didn't take long before Victor and the others rushed into the village, howling for blood. Moira wasn't behind them and instead, scaled the length of the wall with her hands producing masses of violet energy. She let out a loud, thunderous roar before unleashing them down upon a werewolf, seconds before it could jump toward a group of soldiers.

It obliterated the creature into nothing more than flesh and bone. Moira looked up at the stunned, but relieved soldiers before she heard Angela's scream.

Looking up sharply, she noticed the woman had been pinned onto her back, her staff shoved into a werewolf's mouth in an effort to hold it back. Moira was upon the other werewolf in an instant, claws and teeth sinking into its back. She yanked the creature from Angela, threw it to the side before crouching over her, letting out a fierce, angry roar.

Two werewolves took a step toward her and Moira raised herself on two legs, roaring loudly again. Her eyes were two different shades of wrath, her teeth bared. Victor came into the fray, letting out a thunderous roar of his own to assert his authority as Alpha.

The two werewolves seemed to understand and lowered their heads slightly, growling with uncertainty. Victor stalked toward them on two legs, snarling viciously. One of the werewolves attempted to charge, but he seized its throat with one hand, shoving it into the ground harshly.

Moira looked down at Angela, bumping her to her feet with her nose. The woman was ultimately shaken, but relieved to see her. She gave her cheek a little caress and Moira purred softly, relief on her own face as well.

"I'm fine. Thank you, Moira." she said.

Moira grunted a confirmation and nodded her head once.

The other werewolf had turned and fled with a whimper before Jesse aimed his pistol, taking a shot directly at the creature's leg.

It stumbled forward in a flurry of limbs, reverted back to human form - a young man with blue hair. When everyone circled him, he raised two hands helplessly.

"Wait! Wait, please!" he cried, "Don't kill me!"

Victor crouched over him, letting out an angry roar in his face. His ears flicked once, his teeth bared before a moment of realization touched those glowing eyes. He reverted back to human form and his eyes were still glowing. Still angry.

"Well, well, well. It's my _estúpido_ nephew, Ronaldo." he hissed.

Ronaldo grinned weakly in response. Victor grabbed his arm, forcing him to stand. He winced sharply in pain, protesting the move. "Ah! My leg! He shot me!" he cried, looking at Jesse. "It really hurts."

Victor slapped the back of his head. "Be quiet! That bullet barely grazed you, boy! It wasn't even silver!"

"_Tio_ Victor, I can explain - "

"Yes, I can't wait to hear this one!"

O

Ronaldo stared at the faces who watched him from the interrogation room.

Victor was sitting across from him, scowling angrily and bristling where he sat. Rosita looked disappointed and the others didn't quite know what to make of the whole situation. Moira stood beside Angela and looked at her with a careful smile. She was just relieved to see the other woman had been unharmed. Angela shared her smile and put an arm around her waist, leaning into her somewhat for comfort.

"Why wasn't your father there?" Victor demanded.

Ronaldo shook his head, withering beneath the stares. "H-He says he has a plan." he told them, "There's this party where all the big name humans are going to be in Madrid. He wanted a few more wolves for the pack, so we were sent to make some at that village, but..."

Victor tilted his head, studying him. "You've never hurt a human, have you?"

Ronaldo shook his head, features a mask of conflict. "I thought..." he began, hesitantly, "Papa always thought I was the runt of the litter. I thought if I just...followed along with him..." He sniffed once, fighting the urge to cry. "I could make him proud somehow."

Victor murmured thoughtfully before looking at the others. "Do you know anything about a party? Where important humans may be?"

"That sounds much like the Royal Palace of Madrid," Ana said, frowning, "Most important state ceremonies are still held there. I will have to find a way for us to get inside. It shouldn't take long."

Ronaldo hesitantly watched the officers before looking at Victor. "W-What's going to happen to me?"

It took a moment before Ana gathered everyone into the opposite room, leaving Ronaldo alone. They watched him while they spoke, trying to come up with a plan to decide his fate.

"Ronaldo knows about the pack. He knows about Julian's plans." Jesse pointed out. "The kid may be the enemy here, but he could still be useful."

"We don't even know if we can trust him." Ana pointed out. "The boy is clearly under the influence of his father. He does, perhaps, still want to make him proud. That can drive anyone to do anything if they're desperate enough for their parent's affections."

It was true.

Moira thought about something; her mind went to the werewolves of Julian's pack and she wondered how they would ever find their way inside a place filled with important human figures. No doubt, there would be high security stationed at the palace and no one would ever believe they would be under threat by werewolves. No. They had to do this differently, under the guise of something else.

"I can continue my work in the meantime," Moira informed them. "I'm sure I can discover a way to bring down these werewolves in my lab. There is a way, I'm certain of it. I will find it."

There was no doubt in anyone's mind that Moira could find a way. When it came to matters of science, she had no equal among them. They had no idea when or if Julian would make an effort to strike the palace, but it was the best they had so far.

"Alright," Ana finally said, "Dr. O'Deorain will work on a plan in her lab. We will continue to scout the area and find any other werewolves that may be lingering around. I need a team of you with me."

Jesse, Genji and a few other officers stepped forward.

"We'll stay right with you," Jesse assured her.

A chuckle from Ana. "I'm in good hands."

They started to go, but Ana paused and turned her focus to Moira. "I expect progress, Dr. O'Deorain," she reminded her, "People's live are at stake. We need your best efforts if we are to find solutions to this matter."

"You will have my best efforts." Moira promised.

O

The books yielded interesting ideas.

The stories regarding werewolves seemed to suggest the idea that Aconitum - or wolf's bane - was capable of affecting werewolves in some way. The book didn't quite explain it in detail, but it gave Moira an interesting idea to test that theory when she requested the plant be delivered to her that early morning.

Outside of the lab, she could vaguely make out a discussion between two officers.

"So what's going to happen after?"

"I don't know. They're working for us for the time being, but we don't know how long."

"And O'Deorain? She's a werewolf too."

Moira glanced over her shoulder briefly, interested in the discussion.

A sigh from one of the men. "It doesn't seem fair, does it? I mean, she's kind of an asshole, but she's been helping us a lot here."

"Maybe. I mean, the higher ups are going to want to do something about it. You know how it is." The other man was silent for a moment. "What about that Dr. Ziegler? You know she's sweet on O'Deorain. She might have a problem with it, too."

"It's not an executive decision just yet. But keep it on the low. I only know what I heard."

Moira calmly listened to the sounds of retreating footsteps and hadn't realized she had been gripping the corner of the table so hard, she left cracks in it.

Much later, Angela brought a few bottles of extract as well as plants from home gardening department stores. When she made her way to Moira's lab, she found a ring laying on the table and picked it up, studying the silver tint, the small blue jewel in the center.

"Oh. Where did you get this?" she asked.

"I had it offered to me by one of our esteemed officers," Moira explained, "I'm running a few tests to see if every legend about the werewolves is true. So..."

She reached up to take the ring in hand and squeezed her palm. Angela looked down at her enclosed hand with worry before she noticed a sliver of steam rise from Moira's hand. The older woman made a grimace of discomfort before she cursed out and dropped the ring to the floor.

Angela looked at her hand when Moira held it out. There had been a hideous red mark left in the shape of a ring, the flesh tender and raw. Moira flexed her hand a little, shook the sensation away before she smiled dryly.

"So he COULD afford genuine silver after all," she quipped. "Well, that confirms one legend. Silver does, in fact, cause allergic reactions in werewolves. Fortunately I don't dabble in the flair of jewelry, but this can be advantageous against Julian's pack."

Angela murmured thoughtfully, but agreed with that.

Moira turned her attention to the vials and plants. "Now, what I have here is Aconitum - or Wolf's Bane as it's so aptly named. It's but another test to see how it will affect those like me."

"What if it's dangerous?" Angela asked, with a frown of concern.

"It is sure to be, but we must know," Moira told her. "I have you by my side, don't I?"

She smiled reassuringly, but Angela didn't like the idea either way.

"I don't think it's necessary to use yourself as - Moira!"

Angela cried out in horror when the woman took a drink of the bottle without thought or any form of hesitation. Moira blinked, shook her head when the younger woman snatched it from her hand.

"Angela, really, I trust myself in your hands," Moira assured her, "It's a test that has to be done and I think it'll be fine."

Angela groaned and shook her head, worry in her voice. "Moira, you're reckless!" She cupped the older woman's cheeks and studied her eyes. "What if it poisons you? I won't know what to do!"

Moira cleared her throat before she blinked rapidly. She looked down at her fingers and immediately, Angela was at full attention.

"What is it? Describe what you're feeling." she said.

"Mmm, a numbness in my fingers," Moira murmured, thoughtfully. Her eyes looked unfocused now as she seemed particularly interested in her hand. "Now...vision seems to be... I..."

She suddenly lurched forward and Angela gave a startled cry, unable to catch her in time when Moira collapsed to the floor, flat on her face with a loud thud. She immediately knelt down in an effort to roll her on her side, over her shoulder for help. Frantic, Angela listened to Moira's heartbeat by pressing her ear against her chest.

A pulse. Good.

"Moira!" Angela whispered, panic in her voice.

A soft groan answered her, one of both pain and irritation. Slowly rising, she swayed in the effort and leaned against the table for support. Angela took her arm and placed a hand over her forehead, watching the disoriented way Moira blinked, stared at her with unfocused eyes.

"Moira, listen to me," Angela pleaded, "Stay with me."

Moira's skin was hot, as if she was burning a fever. But she smiled instead and swayed into Angela a little, nose buried in her hair. "Mmmm, you smell nice." Her voice came out low, words slurring somewhat.

Angela laughed softly, pushing her aside to study her face. She stared at her with a mixture of amusement and disbelief. "Wait, are you..." she began. "_Mein Gott,_ you are drunk, aren't you?"

"N-No, I simply seem to be experiencing a similar side effect due to..."

Moira suddenly giggled and the sound was so absurd and utterly strange coming from her that it drew a surprised noise from Angela. She grinned down at her, raising two fingers up to her lips to shush a protest she began to utter. Angela blinked rapidly, stunned when Moira leaned down and whispered in her ear.

"Catch me!" she hissed, gleeful.

Angela sputtered another protest, but Moira was already running away with a happy, drunken laugh. It sounded so strange and yet in a horrid way, endearing to hear such genuine pleasure from her. But the younger woman couldn't risk having her rush off and hurt herself.

"Oh, dammit!" Angela cursed, giving chase.

Moira ran down the corridors before launching herself inhumanely high from the window, disappearing into the forest outside. Angela helplessly watched her go.

O

Rosita followed Angela into the forest to help her find Moira that morning. She had begged her not to inform anyone of the incident until they found her.

"What did she eat before she ran off, anyway?" Rosita asked.

"She didn't eat anything," Angela explained, "She drank a bottle of Wolf's Bane."

Rosita raised her eyebrows. "Wolf's Bane?" A laugh escaped her now and she shook her head. "Ah, _La Loba. Un poco loco_, that one is."

"She isn't going to die from it, is she?"

"_Ay, chica_ no." Rosita assured her, with a little giggle and a wave of her hand, "It'll mess her up worse than any liquor, but she'll be fine. We just have to find her."

"And you can?"

"Mmhm," Rosita sniffed the air a few times before her face lit up, "Ah! I have her scent. Give me a minute."

She led the way through the forest, continued sniffing around before stopping at a small stream. Angela looked around, frowning.

"Is she here? I don't see anything." she said.

"She's close." Rosita told her. "Her smell is stronger here."

Suddenly, Moira jumped down from a tree, wrapped her arms around Angela and bodily lifted her. The younger woman gave a squeal of shock and looked back into Moira's grinning, happy face.

"_Maith thú!_" she cried, with a series of laughs. "You found me!"

Angela yelped and squirmed in her grip. "Moira! Ah, put me down!"

Moira continued to laugh before she set Angela down onto her feet. When Angela turned, she looked stunned to see Moira as naked as the day she was born. Her eyes were red and heavy, her cheeks flushed pink. Angela recognized such a sight in those under chemical influence.

"_Qué Padre_..." Rosita murmured, smirking and shaking her head.

"Come! Come play with me, Angela!" Moira insisted, beckoning for her to follow, "The forest is lovely! Listen to the sounds with me!"

"Moira, we can't," Angela told her, "We need to get you back to the base before they know you're gone."

"I don't care," Moira was still laughing, "I want to stay here with you. I want to do my work and live out here with you in peace." She raised her hands dramatically. "I will be Morrighan, and you my mighty Guardian Angel!"

Angela blinked, unable to fathom the genuine, serious words coming from Moira. Well, whether or not they truly were serious given how under the influence she was, anyway. She shook her head rapidly, taking the older woman's arm. "No. You need to come back with me and sober up. You're not in your proper state of mind and we don't know if there are other werewolves out here."

Rosita nodded in agreement before she put her hand on Angela's shoulder. "She'll wear down eventually. It won't last long in her system."

Moira hissed at her, stepping between the two. "_Mac tíre baineann,_" she growled lowly.

Rosita bared her teeth now. "You want to fight with me, _cabra?_" she threatened, her fangs displayed now, "That's a fight you'll lose quickly."

"Oh, don't be so sure!" Moira was glaring at her, sizing her up. "I can fight with the best of them!"

Angela rolled her eyes at the canine growls emitting from them both before she pushed them aside. "Alright, both of you stop making those noises." She looked at Moira. "We're going back. End of discussion."

Moira looked at her, indignantly and Angela held firm. Eventually, the older woman groaned and Angela held her arm to help steady her as they began to walk back to base.

O

Her head was hovering over the bucket as she threw up several times in her quarters.

Angela folded her arms across her chest, studying her with a mixture of pity and dismay. Moira had seemed to return to her senses enough and refused to visit the medical wing. Angela didn't want any questions raised about what had happened either, so she quietly ushered Moira to her quarters.

"What were you thinking, Moira?" she asked, "Running away like that? I was worried I'd lose you."

"As if anyone here gives a whit about me..." Moira suddenly growled, from inside the bucket.

Angela balked at her accusation. "What? What are you talking about?"

Moira huffed out a noise, staring down at the smelly bucket that reeked of vomit. She smiled sardonically, ran her fingers over the rim. She didn't look at Angela, but she showed her teeth.

"What a fool I've been," she whispered, a faint trace of wounded pride in her voice, "To think that anything could become of us after this had been finished. Perhaps that had been your plan from the start, yes? To lure me in with false promises of affection?"

Angela felt as if she had been kicked in the chest. She swallowed thickly, shook her head and straightened the button shirt a little that Moira had dressed into.

"I...You're not in your right mind," she said, evenly, "I know you don't mean those words."

Moira murmured a sound; she was less than committed to arguing with her. Angela cupped her cheeks, lifted her head and met her eyes. Moira's face was no longer the cold, harsh grimace. Instead, her eyes looked wet with evidence of tears and it startled Angela to see such a sight. It tugged at her heart and she put her arms around Moira, holding her tightly to her chest.

There was no resistance from the older woman; soft sniffling sounds, an occasional grunt or two, but she said nothing and simply buried her face in Angela's neck. They stayed like that for a little while longer before Angela spoke gently, stroking her fingers through Moira's hair.

"You're wrong, Moira..." she whispered, against her ear, "I do care for you dearly. The thought of you out there... I-I was worried that Julian would find you."

Moira made another noise and Angela felt her chest swell in a sigh. She didn't know if Moira believed her or not. It hurt her to think about that, but there had been a reason this suddenly came up. Did Moira always feel this way and the effects of the Wolf's Bane just revealed them?

No, that wasn't it. It couldn't be.

She wouldn't have said those things before when they first shared their kiss. Something else had triggered such a response. Angela was determined to find out what that was.


	10. Pack Mentality

~O~

Angela's lips found Moira's that morning.

The two women laid together in bed with Angela comfortably on top of Moira; sharing a soft, languid kiss, Angela's fingers wove through Moira's hair, teasing her scalp. A few soft, contented sounds emerged from Moira's lips. She seemed to enjoy the contact, the slow buildup between them. They most likely had very little time to spend together before they would move on to their mission, but both were determined to make the short time worth while.

"Angela..." Moira's words were barely above a whisper, followed by a small gasp when a thigh pushed between her legs.

Angela was welcomed by heat and dampness against her bare thigh. She pulled her lips from Moira's, meeting her eyes; her face was red from nose to ear across her face, her gaze two different shades darker and her lips parted in thick breaths. The want, the need looking back at her was so utterly breathtaking on Moira's face.

"Mmm...would you like me to?" Angela queried, kissing along the length of Moira's jaw.

Moira chuckled breathlessly. There was a tremble in her voice now. "You surely have to ask?"

Angela grinned, leaned back a little to focus on the task at hand; she kissed paths slowly down Moira's abdomen, feeling the muscles clench at the contact of her lips. When the younger woman glanced up, she noticed that Moira's attention was fully on her as she licked her lips in anticipation.

She made a few more small sounds as Angela gently nudged her legs wider for her. Angela pressed soft, very small kisses inside Moira's left thigh. Then, more followed across the other. She wanted to make this morning last and cherish the sight of Moira quivering with need, but knew that they had very little time to do so. Still, Angela would be quick about it and very, very thorough.

Angela's lips moved further south toward the little patch of curly red hairs and she wasted no time passing her tongue lightly between her hot, damp folds. Moira groaned lowly, twitching her hips up into the delicate contact. Her jaw set, her throat bobbed and her chest swelled in a deep breath. A hiss followed when Angela lightly stroked her tongue across the sensitive bud of her clit.

The older woman was quite sensitive to every little lick across her entrance; she trembled, her breathing shallow. Angela wrapped her arms around Moira's thighs and slipped her tongue inside, earning a lust-filled grunt and a smile as the older woman squirmed pleasantly.

"Yes, please, Angela..." she whispered.

There was just something arousing about the plea on Moira's lips, the way the older woman fisted the sheets at her head and the way those long legs shook. One hooked around Angela, holding her right where she was needed and her hips twitched up against Angela's face.

Fingertips gently stroked down the length of Moira's leg, moving inward before slowly pushing inside of her. Moira's noises were louder, more indulgent than the last. She was certainly impatient as she rocked lightly against the hand that filled her; and yet, her lips formed soft encouragements, whispers for more.

And Angela certainly gave more; her lips suckled at Moira's clit, her fingers worked a harder rhythm into her and it wasn't long before Moira's breaths were faster, trembling words bursting from her lips. She clasped a hand over her mouth to stifle the noises as not to be heard as she watched Angela with dark, unfocused eyes.

"Mmm, Angela, I'm..." Moira breathed.

There was something quite empowering to see Moira come undone like this and the younger woman craved more of those sweet noises. Angela met her gaze, pulled away only the slightest to smile sweetly at her and raise an eyebrow.

"Close, aren't you? I can tell," she purred, teasing her thumb across the swollen, flushed bud of Moira's clit. "Well? What are you waiting for?"

The older woman certainly needed no further encouragement. She groaned into her hand and her free one gripped Angela's head. Her hips jerked against Angela's ministrations before she clenched tightly, falling over the edge with a muffled cry in her mouth.

It took a few moments for her to relax; Angela pulled away, watching as Moira's breathing slowed down and she laughed softly. Angela gave her another second to catch her breath before she laid her head down across her chest, kissing the warm skin at her disposal. It thrilled her when she felt her embrace returned and a chaste kiss placed on her forehead. Moira seemed to be happier this morning, so she took a chance.

"Are you...better today?" she asked, carefully.

Moira nodded her head reassuringly. "I am. I know now what Wolf's Bane can do." she said, "While the reaction is unpredictable, it could backfire against us. Unless I find a way to keep myself and the other wolves of Victor's pack from exposure. It wouldn't be complicated."

"No, that's..." Angela hesitated, thinking of Moira's words. "That isn't what I meant."

Moira swallowed thickly, refusing to look at her. She cleared her throat before her features became impassive. She shrugged one shoulder dismissively before glancing up at the clock on the wall.

"I'm fine, Angela," she assured her, after a moment. "We have a job to do. That's all."

Angela knew Moira wanted to avoid the discussion. She was determined to reassure her otherwise regarding her doubts, but Moira seemed uninterested in talking about it. And it seemed as if neither one of them would get a further chance as a knock came at the door and Rosita's voice spoke to them.

"Are you two _amantes_awake?" she said, "They're ready!"

Moira looked down at Angela and shared a little kiss with her. It was short and Angela noticed how cold she suddenly seemed as opposed to earlier when she was warm, aching and trembling for her. Moira's eyes told a different story, but she was smiling, assuring her with another touch to her cheek.

"Well? Duty calls."

Yes. Of course.

Duty calls.

O

"A Masquerade ball?"

Moira found the idea both pleasing, yet absurd. The palace would be having such a ball on the evening that Julian and their werewolves would supposedly be. Yet, it still raised far too many questions as to how they would find their way inside.

When Moira had mentioned it, there had been an exchange of glances between everyone and an uncomfortable silence. She furrowed her brow, looked at Ana questionably.

"What have you learned?" she asked.

"My idiota nephew told us a few things we needed to know." Victor said.

Ana sighed softly and she pressed a few keys on the holopad, producing an image of an older man in a suit and tie. He had sunken eyes, gray hair and a pin on his lapel. Victor recognized the man immediately and bared his teeth. The reaction caught Moira's interest.

"Do you know this man, Victor?" she asked him.

"I do." Victor said, "I've discussed it with Ana. He's Marco Sànchez, a friend of the Prime Minister of Spain."

"Ah." Moira nodded an affirmative. "I see. What does he have to do with this?"

Genji spoke this time, his voice strangely quiet. "We believe he's aiding Julian and his pack."

"That's quite the accusation," Moira replied, her voice light with amusement. "Do you have proof of this?"

"Marco was a guy we knew long ago," Victor explained, with a roll of his eyes. "He knew about werewolves because my cousin changed once when he went hunting. Marco had been out in the woods looking to hunt himself and he'd seen it. He was eager to be one of us, but I didn't like him. He had a way about him I couldn't trust. _Mala pata_. He latched himself to Julian, though. Maybe he promised the _baboso_ that he'd turn him if he helped. It's the only way I can think of that Julian and the others could get inside easily."

Angela frowned thoughtfully. "So this Marco. If we were to apprehend him before he reaches the palace, will it stop the pack?"

"It's a long shot, but worth a try," Jesse agreed. "Let's find this guy and bring him in."

Moira looked briefly down at Angela, who returned the look - a hopeful smile. Moira gave a half-smile in response, but didn't seem as hopeful as she was. Angela's smile disappeared somewhat. She really wanted to know what had made Moira so despondent, but she knew she wouldn't get an answer right now.

"Now, did you find anything that we can use to our advantage, Dr. O'Deorain?" Ana asked, turning her focus to Moira.

"Yes." Moira answered, with a small nod. "Silver seems to cause adverse effects when in contact with a werewolf, as the stories so suggest. If we utilize silver for our officers, they will have the advantage."

Rosita made a face and Victor sneered with disgust.

"Silver." Rosita hissed, "_Vergonzoso._"

"I don't like it any more than you," Moira told her, voice suddenly dry with disappointment, "Do I delight in the thought of accidentally being shot at by our infamous cowboy?" She flicked her gaze toward Jesse, who rolled his eyes in response. "No, I don't. But if we are to win against Julian and his pack, we have little choice in the matter. We need every advantage we can have."

Most of them seemed to agree.

"Marco is scheduled to meet with the Prime Minister later this evening," Ana explained to all of them, "A few of you will apprehend him for questioning while we work here to make the silver necessary to arm our officers."

Angela raised her hand. "I'll go. Should anyone need a doctor."

"I will." Genji added, stepping forward.

Moira nodded in agreement. Her tone sounded oddly hollow. "I'll go as well." she told her. "It wouldn't do to leave Angela and Genji without the company of a...well...a werewolf. The engineering staff can work on creating the silver necessary as we do."

Ana seemed to approve. "Very well. I want every comm channel left open."

Moira smiled, but the tone in her voice still seemed relatively colder. "Of course."

O

"Why are you doing this?"

Marco paced back and forth, armed with a handgun. He was standing before a whimpering woman bound in a chair in the warehouse that evening. He sighed, stared down at his weapon before pointing it at her. Her whimpers raised in volume as she stared down the barrel of the gun.

"It's what he wants," he told her, tone frigid, but eyes remorseful, "I don't want to kill you, but I have to. If it means I get my reward, I'd blow up an entire orphanage. I don't have a choice."

"Of course you have a choice!"

Marco turned, gun raised toward Genji, Angela and Moira as they walked into the warehouse. Angela was dressed in her Valkyrie armor and clutched her staff tightly in hand. Genji's sword was drawn and Moira was in a suit of her own design. Tubes containing violet fluid attached to her back occasionally swirled and churned.

Angela had spoken with firm resolve. "You don't have to shoot her. You can come with us quietly."

Marco smiled coldly. "I do. He wants this one gone. She will only interfere."

"This can go easy for you," Angela warned him, taking a step forward, "Let her go and drop your weapon. We can discuss this sensibly. No one needs to die."

Marco's eyes darted to each and every face watching him. Genji took a step forward and he immediately turned, running out of the warehouse.

"Get him!" Angela cried, "We can't let him escape!"

Moira was already the first to give chase. Genji watched her go, surprised, but Angela urged him to her side to help unbind the woman from her seat.

"Genji, help me with her, please," she said. "Moira will catch him."

"How do we know she won't kill him?"

The question surprised Angela. She lifted her head with a frown. "What?"

"Ah, never-mind," Genji began to free the woman's left hand. "Forgive me, Angela. I was in deep thought for the moment. I trust she knows what she's doing."

Meanwhile, Marco had run to his car parked across the street. He quickly got into the driver's seat, started it up and slammed on the pedal. But even as the machinery roared to life, the vehicle wouldn't move. Marco looked around frantically before staring into the rear-view mirror, horrified to see Moira standing behind the car, a fiendish grin on her face.

She was clutching the back of the car with two hands forceful enough to leave dents in the metal.

"Going somewhere so soon, Marco?" Moira hissed, with effort.

"No, you're..." Marco gasped, realization lighting his face.

He frantically struggled to power the vehicle further; but Moira's werewolf strength had her clutching the back of his car and refusing to let it go. He screamed with terror and Moira let out a frightening cackle.

Angela and Genji were rushing out of the warehouse with the woman they'd untied running beside them. Moira had set down the car and Genji reached in to grab Marco and yank him out. He raised two hands to ward off a potential attack, looking mournfully toward Moira.

"You... You were given a gift. Why? What did you do to earn it?" he groaned.

"No more talk from you," Genji told him, voice dropping a pitch in warning. "Now, you come with us."

Marco didn't resist this time; he continued to stare at Moira.

"Ana, we have the target." Genji spoke into his comm. "We're ready for pickup."

"_Affirmative. Wait there and a drop-ship will arrive at your position in ten minutes._"

O

Marco was sitting in the small, barely lit room, tapping his heel against the floor while he was being questioned by Ana sitting across from him. Angela, Moira and Victor were in the room with her.

"Who was that woman you were planning to kill?" Ana asked him.

"Her name is Paloma Sanz," Marco explained, quietly. He fidgeted with his hands. "She works for the Prime Minister as an assistant. They work very closely together and she monitors a lot of what goes on at social events, parties and charity balls. There would be a masquerade ball scheduled and they could enter inside without being noticed by anyone."

"And killing her would, what? Help Julian?"

Marco sighed, his tone surprisingly calmer than it had been a few hours ago. "Julian has ideas to make Spain better for the rest of us. He knows that we are corrupt as humans. He seeks to end that corruption once and for all." he explained, "And he needed my help to do it."

Victor let out a guffaw and rolled his eyes. "_Dios mío_ my brother's really gotten into your head. Julian killed our sister for disagreeing with his choices. What do you think he'd do to you?"Off of Marco's hesitant frown, Victor continued with firm resolve. "He's going to die for what he's done and what he continues to do. I promise you that."

Marco was silent for a moment, watching each face. His next question seemed careful, but carried a new tone that was relatively darker. "What will you do with me?"

"That depends on you," Ana told him, "You can redeem yourself and help us stop Julian before he kills many innocent people - "

Marco interrupted her with a cold laugh now. "Innocent?"

He reached into his pocket, producing a holo video of a collection of people who everyone assumed were of higher authority and would be present at the masquerade ball.

"Let me tell you some of those 'innocent people'," Marco continued, briskly, "All of them hide who they really are behind smiles, decadence and lies. Here's one!" He stopped at a picture of a smiling woman. "Jacqueline Stone. She is a representative for the United Kingdom. She receives vast amounts of donations to support orphaned children after the Omnic Crisis. But where do you think that money goes? Hm? To her fancy cars and drug habits."

"And that gives you authority to judge who deserves to die?" Victor hissed now, slapping his hands down loudly on the table. "You sound like Julian. He thinks he's a god among humans and he's tugging you on a leash like the stupid little pendejo you are."

Marco swallowed thickly, lowering his eyes at the intensity of Victor's cold glare.

"Regardless of what these people have done," Ana continued, with firm resolve, "We will not allow a pack of werewolves to slaughter them as they so please." She leaned forward and raised an eyebrow. "You don't truly believe that Julian will hold up his end of the bargain, do you? Surely a man such as yourself could clearly see that he is using you for his own personal gain."

Marco did seem to consider something. He hesitated, furrowed his brow before he groaned, clasping his head with two hands. He let out a softer sound; a whine of anguish and frustration.

"You don't understand what it's like to have nothing," he whimpered, "He promised me I would be changed to be like them...to walk the path of a werewolf. I could FINALLY be rid of this horrible human form and been more." Another pained sound escaped him and he buried his head in his arms. "It's...it's not fair."

No one said anything more on the matter. The only sounds in the room were Marco's soft, sorrowful sobs.

O

Moira was silently working in her lab when Angela visited her.

She found the older woman wearing an apron, thick gloves, a mask and goggles over her eyes. She had been pouring a liquid substance into a container, murmuring thoughtfully; her words were of measurement calculations regarding whatever she had been pouring. Angela walked up to her and placed a hand over her shoulder. The act made Moira pause in her work and she looked down at her, surprised.

"Oh! Angela, I didn't expect to see you." she said.

"What are you working on?" Angela asked, with a small smile.

Moira removed the mask and goggles; she looked quite happy to explain her work. "Well, I've talked with Rosita and Victor and they explained a way for us to be able to resist the effects of silver and Wolf's Bane, albeit temporarily. I have made a mixture here that we can take prior to our involvement should the necessity arise."

"Ah, that's wonderful!" Angela said, patting her shoulder. "I knew you'd find a way."

"Let's not celebrate quite yet," Moira reminded her, staring down at the mixture with dismay, "It's only temporary and we have very few materials at hand. Still, it's a precaution."

"Precaution. Of course."

"Should any of us end up caught in a crossfire, perhaps," Moira added, under her breath.

"I don't think that would happen," Angela assured her.

Moira murmured, somehow less than convinced. The tone caught up with Angela and she furrowed her brow, concerned by it. She tilted her head, studied Moira's impassive expression. Something bothered her. Something more than just the task at hand.

"Moira, what is it?" she asked. "Something bothers you, I can see it."

Moira opened her mouth to answer, hesitated briefly and Angela knew that was it. Something had clearly troubled her and she refused to discuss it. But Angela insisted on it either way.

"Moira, please," she said, giving her arm a gentle shake, "Tell me. What's bothering you?"

Moira sighed heavily, as if releasing a great burden. She turned to face her, features a mask of deep thought. She opened her mouth to speak, but there was an officer who entered the laboratory and immediately, her gaze hardened at the sight of him.

"What do you need?" she asked, biting out her words impatiently.

"I have been sent by Amari to come bring you up for debriefing," he told her, "You had not answered your comm."

"Ah." Moira quietly grunted at her error and turned, focusing on her task once more. "I'll be there shortly. I'm almost finished with what I was doing here. I will have it ready for preparation and a full report within the hour."

"Of course."

The officer departed and Moira attempted to ignore the worried frown on Angela's face. "If that is all, Angela. I have my work to complete. We can talk more on our way to the palace in regards to the mission."

Angela started to protest, but Moira returned her focus to her work and she sighed, disappointed. "Alright. Of course."

Moira didn't let Angela see the pained look on her face.

She silently continued her work as the younger woman left the lab.

Angela was troubled by what had happened, so she walked to Ana's office. She gave a little knock at the door and waited for her voice before stepping inside. Ana was gathering a few holo reports when she saw Angela step inside. With a wave of her hand, she sent the report aside and looked at her, frowning.

"Angela, what's the matter?" she asked, "You look troubled."

"I'm...a bit worried about Moira." Angela told her, "Something happened and she won't tell me what..."

Her eyes fell to one of the reports on the desk. Frowning, she noticed a few words that caught her attention.

**Dismissal.**

**O'Deorain.**

Angela looked at Ana for an explanation. She shook her head and pointed at the report. "What's this?"

Ana sighed heavily, shutting her eyes. She held up two hands. "It's...a matter I've been attempting to quell for a few days now." she explained. "There's been discussion from the board about Dr. O'Deorain's termination."

Angela's eyes widened. She blinked once. Twice. "What?"

"You understand how it is with these things, Angela," Ana replied, with dismay, "They were made aware of the werewolves and the threat, but understand that O'Deorain is one of them. They call for her termination as they do not want to be worried of any potential...problems."

"But she isn't like them!" Angela protested.

"I know. They don't see it that way. I've been working hard to convince them of this."

"Who are they to judge?" Angela scowled now, beginning to pace around the office. "I mean, it's complete scheisse! She's worked hard for us and they want to simply throw her away?"

"I'm trying, Angela. It's been chaotic during this entire situation. I'm hoping to convince them that Moira is no threat to us."

Angela would not be content with that answer. She continued to pace angrily, throwing her hands in the air. It was one thing to be concerned. Yes, she was aware that Moira's touch with lycanthropy was not something to handle lightly; but to throw her away? To outright terminate her position at Overwatch? That wasn't fair.

_It isn't fair..._

"Angela..." Ana began, gently. She walked around her desk, set her hand on Angela's shoulder and gave her a smile that attempted reassurance. "Don't worry. I won't let it happen."

O

It had begun to rain that evening as the Overwatch officers made their way to Madrid. Moira was spraying the werewolves with her perfume she had made and one of them struggled with the suit and tie he had been made to wear. He was also wearing a decorated mask designed to resemble a dog.

"Look at me," he grumbled, "I feel like a butterfly. This is the stupidest thing I've ever done."

Moira adjusted his mask. "Somehow I doubt that." she quipped. Then, her voice was serious. "Now then, we will enter the palace through the main entrance hall. The rest of you will be allowed entry inside with the papers you were given. You will go through the kitchen and the meals will be ready for you to serve the guests. I trust you are capable of that?"

Ana's voice piped up over everyone's comm. "_I want it clean and by the book._" she told her. "_No one strays from the mission. Regardless of what Marco tells us, there are innocent people around. Keep yourselves steady until you are sure the enemy is there, understood?_"

"Understood." Angela told her.

She looked up at Moira, who fitted a decorated mask resembling a devil over her face. The older woman adjusted her suit labels and turned her attention to Angela. She held out her arm for her and Angela quite happily took it. The younger woman fitted a mask over her face - it resembled a bird.

Angela tried to take her mind off of what she'd heard from Ana. It kept her unfocused even as Moira was talking to her. She didn't hear what the older woman was saying - she hadn't meant to ignore her, really she hadn't - but snapped out of it and made out the last of what Moira was finishing.

" - and it's a masquerade ball," Moira murmured, "I haven't enjoyed one like this in some time."

They made their way from the drop-ship, toward several parked cars nearby. Angela chuckled a little, glancing up at Moira through her mask. Hearing how content Moira was did give her a sense of peace as well.

"You look nice." she said.

Moira's voice carried a smile. "One must dress the best for these things."

Ana's voice filled her comm. "_Remember. The Prime Minister is set to arrive in an hour. The security has been informed of the situation._"

Moira made an amused sound. "You told them there might be werewolves attacking the palace?"

"_I informed them of a potential security hazard. That's all they know._"

Victor turned his attention to a few wolves of his pack who had offered to join; Carlos was among them, eager to prove his worth to his Alpha. However, one of the werewolves didn't trust it.

"I don't like this," he said, hesitantly. "We will never get away with this."

Victor patted his shoulders with two hands. "Berto, we will. We MUST. We have to put an end to Julian once and for all."

"Hey, what about your nephew? Ronaldo?" Jesse questioned, when they gathered into the car.

Victor sighed heavily through his nose. "_Ser un chaval._ The pack mentality is strong with the young ones. Ronaldo is still loyal to his father, even if he doesn't want to be. He's staying in that cell until it's over."

Jesse raised an eyebrow before nodding. "Alright then."

He argued no further.

The two looked up when they noticed Moira and Angela get into the car in front of them. Jesse sighed quietly before shaking his head. He considered something for a moment before he spoke.

"You know, I never did trust her but...what's gonna happen after this is over?" he asked.

Victor's features were impassive, but he seemed to know more than he let on. "I don't know."

O

Crowds of finely dressed people.

Smells in the air; expensive champagne, clean curtains, varieties of food laid out across long, wide tables. Aimless chatter.

Moira felt content when she arrived with Angela on her arm. It was such a display of lavished decadence, but she was content with it. After all, she had rarely had the time to indulge in such things. A masquerade party was just the proper thing to put her at ease a little and Angela seemed to agree.

"I thought you'd enjoy this, Moira," she whispered, sidelong to her, "After all, you seemed so utterly distracted."

"Perhaps you're right," Moira agreed, "This is what I needed. Thank you."

Angela was smiling behind her mask.

The two women looked up when they noticed the familiar sight of the Prime Minister - Mariano Aznar. He was smiling, shaking hands with people in the group and started to take interviews with members of the press. He wasn't wearing anything for the masquerade party; just a simple black suit and tie. So far, the security around him had been increased, but he didn't seem to be concerned.

Beside them, Carlos stepped forward carrying a tray of finger sandwiches as part of his disguise. "I don't like this," he hissed, softly, "What if he learns what we are."

"The Prime Minister is nothing but a true politician," Moira told him, "He knows only the information he's given to satisfy him. Nothing more."

She faced him now. "Listen to me. Listen to me!" She added with more force when she noticed he wasn't paying attention. "Let the others know that they are to maintain position. We are not to allow any openings for Julian, do you understand?"

Carlos nodded his head. "_Si._ I got it."

Moira tilted her head once in acknowledgement. "Good luck tonight."

"Thank you."

If Victor's assumptions about his brother were true, they would all certainly need luck tonight.


	11. Alpha

~O~

The party continued peacefully.

"_Remember what I told you..._" Victor said, quietly into the comm links connecting him to his pack. "_They were once our family. We know them well. But they have been blinded by blood lust and hunger. We have to do what we must to put them at rest. It'll be hard, I know. But it's what must be done._"

It was nice being able to dance with her.

Angela and Moira danced within the crowd of party-goers in a pleasant waltz; Moira seemed to be enjoying herself a little more now that they were here, able to spend proper time together with one another so she wanted to enjoy what little pleasures it had to offer.

"It's a pity that we can't thoroughly enjoy this event under the circumstances," Moira told her, ruefully; her eyes wandered around the room briefly. She had seemed embarrassed and suddenly unsure of how to look at Angela. "I would have taken you to a proper dinner."

It was a rather sweet notion and it made Angela smile. "Oh?"

"Yes," Moira suddenly seemed embarrassed and it was an endearing change to her usual personality. Yet she cleared her throat and spoke with that same veneer of calm she was always one to possess. "Perhaps before that, I would take you to the theater. That is...if you'd appreciate that sort of thing. The arts and music had always been a particular enjoyment of mine."

Angela brightened. The thought was sweet. "I would be delighted to go with you! After..." She faltered somewhat when she thought about what Ana had discussed with her, but she wouldn't let it ruin this moment. "After everything is finished, I would go on a proper date. You and me."

Moira smiled a little. "Really?"

"Yes, of course. Do you think I'd lie?"

Moira laughed softly, dared a fleeting glance at her before she chuckled again, as if she wasn't sure if she could believe it. Then, she looked beyond Angela and raised an eyebrow. The younger woman followed her gaze and noticed she was staring at two people talking in secret.

"What is it?" she asked.

"He's asking his friend if he should tell the man he's crushing on how he feels," Moira said, with some form of amusement in her voice.

Angela giggled. "You can hear the conversations in this room?"

"Oh, that I can. Some base and vulgar," Moira told her, smiling and shaking her head. She flicked her gaze toward a woman whispering to a man. "They want to have sex in the bathrooms. They're contemplating making it quick before the next meeting they have."

Another sputter of laughter from Angela and she hid her blushing face in Moira's chest. Moira also laughed a little, but her head immediately turned upwards and she noticed the chandelier above them rattle briefly. She furrowed her brow and Angela looked at her, troubled now.

"What is it?" she asked, softly.

Along the rooftops of the buildings of Madrid, several shapes darted by. Two more jumped through the air, landing on the roof of the palace before a chorus of howls pierced the night. Victor had reacted to the sound and several members of his pack were on guard.

"It's them!" Victor whispered, sidelong to Jesse; the other man had been waiting near the corner of the kitchen doors. "They're here!"

Jesse tapped his comm. "Alright, everyone look alive!" he said, "Victor says we got a party of people hungry flea bags coming right for us!"

"_I've alerted security already._" Angela's worried voice piped up at each comm.

"_Keep your eyes sharp,_" It was Ana's turn to address everyone. "_There are civilians around you. We need to keep them away from the werewolves_."

Just then, there was a crackling sound and the entire palace was bathed in darkness. A collective of startled, frightened voices filled the air and everyone quickly grouped up into the main dance hall. Moira focused her werewolf eyes around the room, searching for signs of anything out of the ordinary. She saw nothing, except for the shimmering forms of the few werewolves of Victor's pack. Keen eyesight was a blessing that came with the change. She could admit to that much.

Jesse activated the light on his mechanical arm and Moira frowned at him. "Wait. Don't do that."

"Some of us can't see in the dark," Jesse grumbled, "What the hell am I supposed to do?"

"Be quiet and listen, perhaps?"

Jesse scowled at her, but the sounds of howling caused cautious murmuring around them. The glass of the windows shattered and several large werewolves surged their way through, drawing screams of terror from the party-goers. It became chaos as people scrambled to escape a sea of fur and teeth; windows were lit up with glowing blue, hard-light barriers, sealing everyone inside.

"Are those..." Jesse exclaimed, with an angry scowl of disbelief, "That's hard-light shielding. How did he get his paws on that tech?"

"I'm quite sure he stole it," Genji told him, slowly drawing his sword.

"We'll figure it out later. Stay sharp!"

Several werewolves herded the people back against the wall with snarls and snaps of their teeth. Guns were drawn and mere moments before a fight could break out, a loud yell filled the air, turning everyone's attention to the doors of the ballroom.

A man was standing there; olive-skinned, grey haired and covered with scars. He had sharp blue eyes, wore only a pair of cargo pants and boots. His knuckles were grafted with metal spikes. This was no doubt the Julian that Victor had told them about.

He gestured to the Overwatch officers armed with weapons. "Drop your weapons, _amigos_."

"No, you tell your pack to stand down," Jesse warned, pointing his gun at him, "See here? We all got silver bullets we're packing. You so much as blink, you're gonna get a one way ticket to the dog house in the skies. So it's all up to you, pooch."

Julian seemed to stare at the weapon for a moment before he smiled thinly. "And was it my brother who helped you work your way to silver, _hermano_? Yeah, I know all about that. It's been that way since we were pups; he's always been weak. He talks about living with humans, but do you know the kinds of humans here with us? The ones pissing themselves in the corners? Victor wants to keep them alive. He doesn't see them as I do."

"Hey! _Pendejo!_" Victor shouted, from the crowds.

The crowds parted and werewolves snarled as they watched Victor make his way through. He showed his teeth in full display as well; he was still an Alpha and they were still able to recognize the older wolf as such. Still, Julian smiled and shook his head, not as intimidated as the rest of his pack.

"See this?" he said, indicating his brother with a flick of his wrist. "This one betrays his people for the sake of your kind." His voice rose in volume, carrying a rage that shook the room. "YOU LOVE THESE HUMANS MORE THAN YOUR OWN KIND! MORE THAN YOUR OWN FAMILY!"

"And what about our sister then, hm?" Victor's voice dropped lower, menacing. "You certainly didn't care for her when you killed her."

Julian's gaze softened somewhat now. He sighed heavily through his nose and for a second, there was a flicker of humanity that came and went quickly. "_Lamento_, what happened to her. It was a shame she didn't see the light as I did. Still. You do worse than me by betraying all of werewolf kind. Silver, Victor? You showed them the way to poison us? You taught them our weaknesses?"

"It isn't about that, Julian!" Victor shouted back. "Waging war on the humans will bring death to us! Remember what history has proven! There are more of them than us and your petty little vendetta against them will only bring us to extinction!"

"No." Julian shook his head, still grinning. "I'll show you the light, _hermano_. Just like I showed the pack. They follow me now. Not you."

Victor continued to stand his ground, show his teeth, square his shoulders. Angela looked at Moira, then back to the crowds of frightened people.

"We have to get these people out of here!" she whispered, fiercely.

"And how would you like for us to do that?" Moira whispered back, skeptical of the surrounding werewolves. "They're not simply going to allow it without a fight."

Angela thought about it. "Well? We can't very well allow them to win, can we? Innocent people are going to be killed unless we do something!"

"As much as I admire your compulsive altruism, Angela," Moira said, her tone rather dry, "I'm not content with letting a single mangy mutt sink their claws into any of us without a proper plan."

Angela agreed with that. There were too many werewolves and too many civilians who could end up in the crossfire. Perhaps there was a way they could settle this matter and spare the people of the party. Julian had been talking the entire time and she looked up at him, just as he was finishing.

" - and I want the Prime Minister. The little _chocho_ says he does not fear us? I can show him fear."

The Prime Minister was, in fact, cowering in the presence of a large, black and silver werewolf; the frightening creature stared him down, bared its teeth and growled thickly at him. The man whimpered, recoiling as far as he could with his arms over his head, as if it would somehow protect him.

"You're not taking him," Victor promised, venom dripping in his voice, "I won't let you."

Julian grinned widely at him and his teeth were sharper. "Good. Then you can watch them all _die_."

The werewolves let out a chorus of howls and the people screamed in terror. Victor and his werewolves transformed immediately and dove at Julian's pack, sending humans scattering to avoid being trampled. It became chaos as screams of fright, angry snarls and gunshots went off through the air.

Julian watched the sight with a satisfied smile before he doubled over and began to transform; black fur shot up from his skin, teeth elongated, fingers stretched into dangerous, gleaming claws.

He looked toward Victor, who arched his back with a snarl. Then, both werewolves charged for one another.

O

Angela and Moira worked to herd the people from the ballroom while the werewolves from both packs fought. A single werewolf attempted to pursue them when it noticed what they were up to and Jesse took a shot from his weapon, the bullet ripping into the werewolf's chest.

They watched in muted shock as the creature collapsed, writhing across the floor with a series of pained shrieks; smoke filtered from its body and the flesh began to bubble. Angela started to speak, but couldn't as she stared at the werewolf slowly stop writhing and revert back to human form. All that remained of his chest was a smoking hole and ribbons of black that seemed to stain the blood vessels.

"Holy shit, it actually works." Jesse exclaimed.

Moira looked fascinated as well by the results and she murmured thoughtfully, leaning down to study the damages done to the creature. "Hm. It would appear that the subject's tissue decays at an accelerated rate when silver is introduced into the blood - "

She looked up sharply when another werewolf charged into the fray, snarling with renewed hatred at the sight of its fallen comrade. The eyes of the werewolf were wild, blood-drunk and its mouth dripped of saliva. It lunged and slammed its full weight into Moira, who had been unfortunate enough to be in its direct path. Angela looked back as they were launched through the kitchen doors.

"Moira!" she cried.

She quickly rushed through the double doors and found Moira had quickly transformed, slashing her claws at the other werewolf with enraged, loud roars bursting from her mouth. Food, pots and pans went scattering from the counters as they threw one another about in the kitchen, opening cuts along their sides and arms. Moira sank her claws into the werewolf and it gave a screech of pain, struggling to dislodge her.

They stumbled over the counter tops, spilling everything in their path before Moira clutched the werewolf by the head. She dragged the creature with her claws still deep into its throat across the floor before pinning it into the wall. It struggled and thrashed, kicking her back and gouging wounds into her hips. Moira's face was a mask of wrath and she let out a thunderous animal roar in its face.

The werewolf roared back at her, defiant to its fate.

Moira's teeth clamped down onto its throat and after struggling against it for several moments, she swiftly jerked her head, snapping the werewolf's neck. The creature immediately collapsed, reverting back to human form; a man with lifeless blank eyes, lengthy black hair and a thin, wiry frame.

Moira huffed out a sound and turned to Angela, who had been standing there tense the entire time. She was holding her pistol and ready to take the shot she needed to kill the other werewolf. Moira lowered her ears and made a soft grunt of reassurance. Angela quickly rushed up to her now and put her arms around her thick neck. The smell of her fur, the warmth of her body was a temporary comfort from the chaos around them. Moira purred softly at the contact, draping her great head over Angela's smaller body.

"Are you alright?" Angela asked her, after a moment.

Moira looked down at her and inclined her head once with a low grunt in response. She was fine.

"Good. Now come!" Angela urged, "We need to help the others!"

As they made their way out of the kitchen, a frightened woman pointed at Moira. "Look! It's her! She's one of them!"

Angela raised two hands, hoping to calm her. "Wait, listen!"

Moira rolled her eyes - a very human gesture for her current condition. She showed her teeth a little and Angela comforted her with a small stroke to her side.

"She's not going to hurt you," Angela reassured the woman, "She's going to help us get you out of here while - "

A sharp snarling sound pierced the air and they looked toward the ballroom, watching Julian and Victor locked in combat. Julian had attempted to get around his brother several times to reach the Prime Minister, but Victor would clamp his teeth and claws into him and yank him right back.

Just then, a smaller werewolf jumped onto Julian's back, startling him only for a moment. He roared, staggered back a few paces and reached back to grab the werewolf and throw it at Victor's feet. It took a few seconds of realization to understand that the werewolf who had jumped onto him was Ronaldo.

Victor helped Ronaldo stand and the younger werewolf looked up at him, rubbing his head with one clawed hand. Victor snorted roughly, a look of understanding, followed by pride on his wolf features. The two charged for Julian, who roared with renewed fury; his eyes were locked onto his son, jaws clenched, teeth fully displayed.

He charged for them with a roar.

Meanwhile, Moira arched her back with a snarl in her throat when a werewolf advanced upon them. She raised herself on two legs, just as it charged for her. The force knocked Moira off of her feet and Angela stumbled out of the way, dropping her pistol in the process. A woman in the crowd bent down to retrieve it and, quite frightened, aimed it at the werewolves.

O

Julian, Victor and Ronaldo continued to remain locked in combat; Julian swung his claws into Victor's sides, but Ronaldo jumped on his back again, catching his cheek in his teeth. Julian backed up, slamming him into the wall to dislodge him, but Victor was already there; he clamped his teeth down on Julian's throat.

Snarling, clawing at Victor's sides had the older werewolf dislodge from him. Julian staggered back, but was seized tightly by Ronaldo again. The younger werewolf was forced backward and Victor grabbed Julian's muzzle with one clawed hand. He thrashed like a creature possessed.

Victor watched him, stricken by what had to be done. He raised his free hand and Julian's eyes widened. He snarled, groaned and struggled against his son before his sounds were abruptly silenced by the teeth clamped into his neck by his older brother. It took a swift, vicious twist before his neck was snapped.

Julian reverted back to human form, naked and bloodied from his attackers. His eyes were perpetually frozen open, mouth slack, blood pooling from his nose and lips. Ronaldo huffed out, stared down at his father with a mixture of grief and resolution. Victor seemed equally anguished by what had been done, but he looked toward his nephew and huffed out a sound of reassurance. Ronaldo simply couldn't look at him at the moment and chose to curl up with a few haunted groans.

Suddenly, there was the sound of a gunshot and a familiar, pained howl that caused Victor to look back sharply.

Moira had crumbled to the floor beside the other werewolf that had been mortally wounded by her attacks; she was now doubled over, holding her arm with one clawed hand. The flesh was smoking from between her fingers and the woman who had retrieved Angela's pistol had dropped it, horrified by what she had done.

"Moira! Moira, no!" Angela shrieked, running to her side.

Moira slowly reverted back to human form, groaning. Her arm was covered in a spiderweb of black, gradually seeping up her shoulder. She hissed sharply, holding her arm as she was circled by her comrades. Victor quickly pushed his way through the crowd, eyes widening as he too changed back to his human form, noticing her critical condition. The smell of blood was strong in the air and the stink of silver stung his throat.

Moira shakily took in several gulps of air before looking up at Angela. "W-Why is it whenever I'm with you, I end up bleeding?" she grunted out, attempting dry humor despite the pain.

The woman who had shot Moira shook her head frantically. "I-I didn't mean to!" she gasped, "I was aiming for the other one!"

Moira rolled her eyes, teeth clenched in pain. "You're a wonderful shot, truly..."

Angela was shaking, struggling to calm her voice. Her eyes were glassy and tears were already starting to fall. Everyone had been watching the scene in dead silence. Jesse had been oddly silent the entire time.

"W-We need to get her to the ship! We need to st-stop the poison from reaching her heart!"

"Don't worry, Angela. We will run swiftly!"

Victor helped her with Moira and the woman growled out sharply. She was wrapped with a long coat to grant her some measure of modesty. The party goers had been silent, watching the sight with a mixture of confusion and shock. The werewolves had also been silent as well, doing nothing but observing now that Julian had been killed and they remained without an Alpha.

"My-My arm..." she hissed out, eyes fluttering as she struggled to maintain consciousness, "I can't...I can't feel it."

"Moira, look at me," Angela pleaded desperately, keeping her eyes locked with hers. "I want you to keep talking to me. Keep looking at me."

Moira laughed weakly, her voice breathless and strained. "That would be...difficult not to under the circumstances. It's hard to miss you."

Angela laughed now, her voice strained with desperation.

Moira's eyes started to close.

"Moira, don't you look away! Keep your eyes open!" Angela pleaded now.

"Just...let me rest my eyes for a moment, Angela," Moira whispered, voice barely audible. Her skin looked sickly and gray now as the veins around her neck began to blacken. "Just-Just for a moment. I'm so tired."

"I know, I know you're tired, love. But you HAVE to try and stay awake! You can rest once we've fixed you up, yes? Please, keep your eyes open!"

Jesse grimaced, listening to Angela's desperate voice.

"Keep her awake," Victor urged now, looking at the others. His voice was grave and his eyes glassy. "The silver is poisoning her blood. She can't fall asleep or she may not wake back up."

"Moira, you heard him, stay awake!" Jesse's voice was angry, but apprehensive all the same.

Moira's vision dimmed somewhat. She barely heard the sound of Victor yelling at someone.

Hm. He was always too loud.

O

Angela didn't know how long it had been.

She was leaning against the wall, head in her hands. The facility was deathly quiet and she knew that meetings were being held about the public witnessing werewolf attacks on the palace. She knew that Ana was doing everything she could to suppress the news. She knew that Victor was doing his best to disperse the wolves of his pack outside from public view.

But she couldn't stop thinking about Moira; if she would live or die, that was all on the help of the doctors they had and the knowledge of the werewolves. Angela was deemed not mentally fit to help with her, which she had argued vehemently about for almost an hour until they pushed her out - of her own department - so that they could work on saving Moira's life.

Her mind went to what would even happen afterwards. Moira would be saved. She HAD to be saved.

Angela looked up sharply at the sounds of approaching footsteps and noticed Ana walking up with Winston at her side. She swallowed thickly, wiping her eyes with one hand. The two didn't look particularly upset, which gave her somewhat hopeful feelings.

"Well?" she asked, her voice tight with anxiousness.

"She's weak," Ana told her, with a reassuring smile. "But she will make it."

Angela smiled tearfully and couldn't help but embrace Ana. The gesture was returned and Winston put an arm around them both. The comfort was absolutely necessary and she felt all form of tenseness in her body melt away.

Once Angela pulled away, she looked at Ana with a bright smile. "I'd like to see her."

"Of course," Ana's voice changed and she looked a bit apprehensive now. "Just keep in mind that the injuries she endured will be one she may live with for the indefinite future."

Angela didn't know what Ana was trying to tell her, but that spurred her on to reach the room Moira was resting in. She found the woman lying in bed, eyes closed and seemingly asleep. Rosita was there at Moira's bedside, staring down at her arm.

Rosita turned and Angela saw it; the pale skin of Moira's arm was now covered in violet ribbons. A closer inspection and Angela could see that it wasn't wholly the case, but that her veins had been discolored. She ran her fingertips over them and furrowed her brow, worried.

"The silver will stain her veins permanently," Rosita explained. She chuckled and shook her head, looking down at Moira, "_Mierda_, she is a tough one."

"SHE can hear you." Moira suddenly mumbled, dryly.

Angela laughed breathlessly, leaning down to kiss Moira's lips as the older woman's eyes opened. She murmured tiredly, but smiled in return and cupped Angela's cheeks, returning the kiss with as much energy as she could muster. She was still weak from the silver poisoning her.

"I'm so glad you're okay." Angela knew how silly she must have looked, tears in her eyes.

"I am glad of it as well," Moira agreed. She furrowed her brow when she caught Angela looking at her arm. "Ah... There's no pain. I hope it doesn't put you off."

"No, not at all." Angela assured her, threading their fingers and pressing their palms together. "I'm just happy you're not in pain."

"No, not anymore." Moira said, with a half-smile.

Angela leaned her head against her chest and Moira returned the embrace, letting her into the bed so that they could lay together. Moira's skin was cool to the touch, a change to her warmer body temperature as a werewolf. Rosita just smiled as she watched them before turning to go.

Angela looked up at her. "Rosita?"

The older woman stopped and glanced down at them. "Hm?"

"Thank you for all that you've done," Angela told her, smiling, "Without you, we never would have been able to stop Julian or help Moira."

Rosita chuckled and nodded. "Ah, well, La Loba did most of the science work." She raised an eyebrow and tilted her head in Moira's direction. "Just a lost puppy until we showed her the way."

Moira rolled her eyes, but a small smirk tugged at the corners of her lips. "Is that your way of expressing gratitude?"

"Maybe."

Angela touched Moira's collar bone and looked down with curiosity. "You're so cold."

"She will be. It'll take some time until her strength returns," Rosita explained. "Now, I'm going to speak with Ronaldo. Poor _chamaco._ He's in a bad sort of way after... well..."

She sighed softly, leaving the room so that Angela and Moira could lay there together in peace. Angela decided she was content with that; absently rubbing Moira's arm with her fingertips in slow, gentle strokes. She stared at the pattern in her skin and her heart clenched at the thought of losing her. But Rosita had the others had pulled through and saved her life. Angela would want to know more, but right now, she was content staying here.

"I heard what they said," Moira's voice was softer now, smoother, "You weren't of sound mind to be offering any assistance in my recuperation."

Angela tittered, embarrassed. "Hah. What do they know?" She paused now, grimacing. "Perhaps I did make some choice words."

Moira's voice was light with amusement. "Oh? Oh my, I dare say you must have been a fright."

"Oh, stop that." Angela giggled, giving her a little pat to her shoulder.

Moira shared a laugh with her, leaning her head back and shutting her eyes. She was still weak and her muscles ached from the fight - surely there would be aches much later to endure as well - but she felt relaxed now that she was with Angela.

They continued to lay together; Angela caressed Moira's violet hand in hers and Moira observed her movements in silence.

She could only wonder how long it would last now that the matter with Julian was closed.


	12. The Future

~O~

Angela was strolling down the corridors of the facility that morning, listening to the news broadcast on a holovideo from her watch attached to her wrist. It was a broadcast she barely listened to as her mind was on Moira and their evening they had planned on spending together. She had slept in a little later than she'd have liked, but her staff had deemed it necessary for her to catch up on her rest.

The werewolves had gone after the incident and disappeared from public eye. She had understood why they did, but in a way, she would miss them when they were gone. They had been good to them, but Angela had understood why they had to go.

"Angela!" Winston called.

She snapped out of her thoughts, shut off the video feed and turned to him; he had been walking down a flight of stairs, carrying a clipboard in his large hands. Angela walked up to meet him and he held it out to her.

"The release form from the patient in 2B," he said, "I thought I'd bring this to you for your signature."

Angela tilted her head. "I could have gone down there, Winston." she told him, signing the form with a small chuckle. "There was no need to come and find me..."

She trailed off, noticing the odd look on his face. Immediately, she knew something wasn't quite right.

"Winston, what's wrong?"

He sighed, shaking his head before raising two hands. "Angela, it's about Moira - "

"What?" Angela was immediately worried. "What's wrong with Moira? Is she alright?"

Winston nodded reassuringly. "Yes, she's fine. Well, she's in good health as much as a werewolf can be," he explained, "But there was a meeting early this morning. The board had gathered for a hearing to...decide Moira's place here at Overwatch. She wanted to call you, but you didn't answer."

Angela's features lit up with realization when she began to understand why her staff had allowed her to sleep late. Her eyes welled and she shook her head slowly. They WANTED her to miss it. They had WANTED Moira to lose the hearing knowing that Angela could have possibly convinced them otherwise of their decision.

She would deal with that later. Now she had to find Moira.

Making her way deeper into the facility toward her lab, she spotted the two doctors on the way - they had been the ones who had told her to sleep late and when they had seen her coming, they immediately paled where they stood and froze. They started to talk - perhaps explain themselves in some way - but Angela pushed passed them and made her way further until she reached Moira's lab.

The door opened and she nearly stumbled over a box. Angela caught herself and noticed the label on the box read: "SMALL TOOLS". Looking around, she saw that the lab was nearly empty, everything boxed up and labeled and larger equipment covered with white sheets.

"Moira?" she called.

She walked into Moira's office and found the woman at her desk, quietly gathering a few folders and stacking them into a box. When she saw Angela, she paused, smiled sadly and resumed her task.

"Moira, what happened?" Angela demanded, her voice cracking. She knew the answer, but wanted to hear it from her.

"I assume it is obvious, Angela," Moira's tone was hollow. She sighed, waving a dismissing hand in the air. "It appears that my...condition has raised some concerns. They have all decided that I am too great a risk to continue having here. I am to leave effective immediately."

Angela blinked in horror. "What?"

"It was inevitable. I know it's what they wanted." Moira shrugged it off nonchalantly. "They are using my condition as a cover for what they truly fear, perhaps."

"B-But Amari-"

"SHE spoke on my behalf," Moira interrupted, her actions harsher now as she stuffed a folder in the box. "I suppose someone had to."

Angela wavered, shaking her head. "Moira, I had no idea there was a hearing! They- My staff volunteered to cover for me and I..." She groaned angrily, her voice tight as she made an effort to calm herself from crying. "They wanted this! That's all it was!"

Moira nodded, sighing. She relaxed her shoulders and her features smoothed out. "Yes..."

Angela refused to allow it to happen. She scowled now, shaking her head once more before turning.

"Where are you going, Angela?" Moira asked. She sounded tired, entirely too defeated for someone like her.

"To talk to them!" Angela insisted, firm, "I won't let this happen! I REFUSE to sit idly by and allow everything you've done for this organization to go up in shambles for - for this!"

She gestured to Moira as she said it, but the older woman didn't seem willing to offer much fight. Instead, she seemed determined to focus on her task of getting everything boxed away.

"It's already finished, Angela. I will have to take my research elsewhere."

"But..." Angela's heart sank and she felt heat tighten in her throat. "What about us? You can't just..." She swallowed a small hiccup of despair. "You're just going to leave like that?"

Moira's eyes misted. "It's far from what I want, Angela. But they've decided on what must be done. It will not be in your best interest to follow me."

Angela felt as if her heart had been stomped upon. She lowered her head and was stunned when she felt Moira put her arm around her. She felt the older woman sigh loudly, perhaps to stifle her own tears.

"Oh, it isn't fair, is it?" Moira said, quietly. "I know. I know."

Angela was shaking her head in Moira's chest, tears falling. "No, you can't leave, Moira..."

Moira swallowed thickly, shutting her eyes.

O

Watching her depart the Overwatch facility was the hardest thing Angela had ever witnessed.

The older woman had driven away without a look back at her. It was hard, she knew how much it was. Moira had to handle it in the way she understood, but it hurt Angela just as much. She couldn't look at those who watched beside her and she had to shut her eyes tight to keep the tears from falling. Genji placed a hand on her shoulder to offer some form of comfort.

"Angela, I'm sorry." he told her.

Ana hadn't spoken since and simply shut her eyes.

Angela turned to the two doctors who had passed her earlier. She walked up to them, shook her head with anguished disappointment before she walked away. Moira had seen her go from her car and she shut her eyes, clasping a hand over her mouth to stifle her own pained sounds.

Meanwhile, as she disappeared over the horizon, Angela was making her way back to her office and the two doctors followed behind her, urging her to listen to their explanations. She stopped and her voice was struggling to maintain a semblance of calm as she addressed them.

"You will come with me to my office," she said it firmly, despite not shouting, "You will both fill out release forms and your positions hereby terminated effective immediately."

They looked horrified and spoke at once. Even Jesse was stunned.

"Hey, doc, hold on a second - "

Angela pointed a finger at him now, her voice filled with hurt and anger. "No!" she snapped. "They conspired against me to be rid of Moira knowing exactly what they were doing! I will hear no further excuses! We are meant to function as a team! A family! We live and function with trust and understanding! These two betrayed that trust! Betrayed ME and EVERYTHING Moira and I worked hard for!"

Her voice was shaking, tears streaming down her cheeks. Ignoring the voices of those attempting to soothe her, she whirled and left them.

"She... She needs a little time," Ana said, gently. She set a hand on Genji's shoulder before the ninja could follow her. "Genji, I'll speak with her."

Genji looked at her briefly before nodding. "Very well."

Ana followed Angela to her office and found the younger woman moving to her desk to begin filling out the release forms she had promised to make.

"Angela." she said.

"I must get started on these, Ana," Angela said, rigidly.

"Angela, wait a moment."

Angela reached for a pen, but Ana closed a hand over hers and Angela huffed out impatiently, struggling weakly against her for a few moments before she finally lost the will to continue the rigid facade. She started to cry and Ana put her arms around her, pulling her into a comforting embrace. It was so strange, really to have done something like that, but Angela felt that she wanted the comfort more than anything else right now.

"I'm so sorry, Angela..." Ana whispered, soothingly, "I did what I could. Their ultimatum wasn't fair, but this was the best course of action."

"Ultimatum?" Angela pulled from her, frowning. She sniffled a little and wiped her eyes on the back of her hand.

Ana pursed her lips. "If Moira was to remain at Overwatch, they would shut us down. Hundreds of people would be without jobs. It was made clear that she was dangerous to keep around. I did what I could to assure them otherwise, but you know how it is with bureaucracy." She sighed, rolling her eyes with a huff of frustration. "As if they know the true sacrifices we make every day."

Angela knew that well.

Dismiss Moira and hundreds of people would be allowed to keep their positions with the organization. Dismiss one werewolf Geneticist for the sake of them all.

"I don't even know if I'll see her again..." Angela's anguished sobs were back.

"You will." Ana promised. "Perhaps when this has all been forgotten - "

"It won't be forgotten Ana. You know as well as I."

It was true.

She could only hope that it wasn't, but it was true.

O

_Five Months Later_

It was a good morning.

Moira worked in her lab that day in the small town that had welcomed her. They offered her opportunities for study and research. She could work without judgement or issues from the people and she had been given a place in the mountains where it was quiet. Moira appreciated the silence and the peace so that she would not be disturbed from her tasks. It was routine and she spent all day and sometimes night working.

Her mind wandered occasionally to Angela, whom she had not spoken to since leaving Overwatch.

"Hmm..." she distracted herself with a holographic readout of data. "Subtle changes to the neural pathways after exposure to the..."

Moira paused now, sniffing the air with her nose high. She could smell another werewolf nearby. How very curious to know that one was approaching her.

She stepped outside onto the front porch, sniffing around a few more times. A female werewolf. She was young, too. Moira had learned how to understand these smells much better in her time alone. She could also smell fear mixed with the scent of the werewolf. Why would it approach her if it was afraid?

"Come out," Moira warned her eyes scanning the trees. "You know I can smell you. The perimeter is protected with traps. It wouldn't do to have you attempt to sneak up on me." Her voice trilled fiendishly. "I could always use a new experiment if you're going to be so bold."

She saw a shift in the trees and a flash of blonde-colored fur and sharp ocean-blue eyes. How very curious. She had never seen a blonde werewolf before. But it made her smirk and advance. She could transform and teach the impudent thing some manners, perhaps? Well, that would get a little messy, surely, but she would certainly not allow herself to be taken for surprise.

There was a sound of bone snapping, shifting of skin and Moira's confident smile drained into one of shock as the figure stepped out of the brush, naked and shivering.

Angela.

The younger woman smiled weakly at her. "Hello, Moira."

O

Angela was covered in a blanket and Moira provided her with a glass of water. She thanked her quietly and stared down at the floor, watching as Moira took a seat in front of her. The older woman had been silent and quite calm for a long time and when she did speak, it wasn't accusing, but firm. As much as she was relieved to see her again after all this time, she wanted answers and wanted them now.

"Well, I have an open mind, Angela. Would you care to explain?" Moira asked.

"It happened a month after you left." Angela shuddered as she drank from her glass. "The werewolves from Julian's pack had infected a few people in the fight and we were called to collect them. I tried to help one of them but..." She winced and set the glass down, pulling the sheet away just a little so that Moira could see four long claw marks across the surface of her skin, just above her ribs. Her lips thinned as she studied the scars, thinking of Angela hurt by one of them.

Angela sighed heavily. "We didn't think a scratch would be enough. But in a week, I began to experience the same things you did. Strong sense of smell, hearing. I even performed tests myself to be certain that it was the same thing."

"And?" Moira wanted to know every detail. Her face was grim and cold.

Angela refused to look at her. "I put myself in that room that you'd made and I changed during the full moon."

"Did you have anyone there to help you?"

"No. I was alone, but I made that choice to stay alone. Until my first transformation, I tracked down Rosita and she helped me learn to control it. It took a great deal of effort, as expected. But she never lost faith in me. They are good people, Moira." She sighed, disappointed. "I am sorry to see them vanish into hiding after everything they'd done for us."

Moira was content with that answer, but it didn't explain why Angela was here.

"What about Overwatch?" she questioned, rubbing a hand across her knee; it was a distracted gesture that she couldn't help. "Did they cast you out as they had me?"

Angela hesitated for a moment. It almost seemed as if she didn't want to answer, but she did anyway. "No. But it was Genji who wanted me to stay. They all did. But I didn't feel...like I should be there under the circumstances. It was a difficult decision, but one that had to be made for the good of myself and everyone else. I traveled around in an effort to provide my help to small Omnic Crisis Relief camps. But that failed when they learned what I was."

"They threw you away." Moira's fingers clenched tightly.

"Yes..."

Moira knew what it meant. Perhaps she had earned it to some degree, but not Angela; with her ridiculous sense of altruism and determination in the face of madness. She deserved to be treated better than what they had done to her, but she hadn't been. After the good work she had done, they simply tossed her aside when they saw the true nature of the younger woman - a nature she couldn't even help.

Cowards.

Moira walked to her side, sat down and Angela put her arms around her. Moira kissed the top of her head, reacquainting herself with Angela's scent. It warmed her senses and reminded her of the brief days they shared together at Overwatch. Perhaps she missed it more than she admitted.

Angela sighed and leaned into Moira's neck, a hand slipping over her shoulder. The naked form pressed up against her certainly was enough to reawaken old heat beneath her and Moira pulled her up into her lap. That cooler hand up against her naked backside thrilled Angela and she nuzzled Moira's cheek to coax her lips against her for a long, warm, chaste kiss.

But it didn't last as Angela's lips found their way to Moira's ear. "I've missed you." she husked out.

"I know, I can tell." Moira breathed out, just as heavy.

What an odd concept to bring up, but it still made Moira smile a little. She leaned back, barely listening as she stroked the soft flesh of Angela's breast with one hand. She was determined to distracted her and maintain an upper hand and it seemed to work to a small extent as Angela's voice hitched only for a moment before she leaned back to smile at Moira heatedly.

"You know, Rosita had told me that I'm the fastest werewolf she had seen," Angela told her, voice filled with a hint of mischief, "Hm, would you feel up to the task of challenging that?"

"Really?" Moira raised an eyebrow and tilted her head. Her voice carried a trill of amusement. "Honestly, Angela. We're not real wolves, why would I ever...?"

Angela gave her a playful grin and leaned back, studying Moira with direct challenge in her expression now. "Are you saying that you can't?"

"Don't be silly, of course I can."

"Mmm, then prove it."

She wriggled from Moira's grasp and for a moment, the older woman just assumed that it was a game. She wouldn't TRULY run away like that. But Angela certainly looked serious enough and simply sauntered to the front door, as naked as the day she was born. It would seem that being a werewolf now meant she had little in the ways of prudishness. Moira found it difficult to deny her when she was gifted a sight such as that one.

Angela shifted form, rushing into the woods on all fours. The sight spurred on an instinct in Moira that she had never felt before and it brought on her own change. She gave chase behind Angela.

The smell of life and nature around her was deeply alluring in this state, she had to admit that. The thrill of having Angela back with her, wanting her to perform this silly ritual was a certain brand of arousing that she had never known when she was human. Moira was refined, classy as a human. But as a werewolf she followed her animal instincts as needed. Here, oh, they certainly were.

Ah, Angela. She was fast in her werewolf form. Moira could still smell her in the air. She was close, waiting for her to catch her. Oh, what Moira intended to do when she did... The thought made her thighs ache with heat.

She sniffed the air around her, paused and hissed softly, spotting Angela only a few feet away. She growled lowly, gave chase as she rushed off, but the run had seemed to tire Angela as Moira was able to catch and pin her with her larger form, drawing a yelp from Angela's throat.

Both of them shifted back into human form and Moira stared down at that grinning, flushed face. Angela laughed happily, wrapping her arms around Moira's shoulders to pull her in for a kiss. It was a slow, yet deep kiss that carried many delightful promises.

Moira pulled away just a fraction, their lips barely touching. Her breath was thick, hot and hungry. "And what do I do with you now, Dr. Ziegler?"

"Mmm, I don't know, Dr. O'Deorain," Angela played the game. She teased her fingers through Moira's hair, agitating her to new levels of sensitivity. "Perhaps I will simply leave myself in..." She whispered huskily in her ear. "...your capable hands."

Moira smiled down at her, eyes dark and hungry. "I'll not keep you waiting then."

"Good. I've been kept waiting for five months."

A soft laugh from Moira. She then raised her eyebrows and looked up around them. "Do you really want to...?"

"No. Back to the house, please."

"I thought so."

O

Moira awoke to an empty bed.

She blinked, rubbed her eyes and noticed that Angela wasn't there, which was unusual as she was typically the one who woke first and early. It was a small concern and she rose to make her way into her kitchen to find Angela had written her a small note left on the counter.

Moira walked up to it, picked it up and read it:

_I went into town to see if there were those in need of my help._   
_I noticed they were short on doctors. I made breakfast for you and left it in the fridge._   
_Please eat before you begin your work. Doctor's orders._

She had even drawn a small smiley face that made Moira chuckle, shake her head and roll her eyes. Perhaps she could indulge for a moment before she started her work.

Once she had the food in her stomach, she ventured into town to retrieve some supplies, dressing herself in a gray oxford shirt, vest and trousers with her long, black trench-coat.

She found Angela in the streets, sitting on the curb and talking with a few parents and their children. She had found some proper clothes to wear, it seemed; a thin denim jacket, some slacks and shoes; not quite what she often wore, but Moira suspected that they must have been given to her.

She was smiling broadly, making gestures with her hands and it told Moira she must have been telling quite the tale. It was delightful to see her attach herself so quickly to the townspeople.

Angela sensed her stare and looked over, smiling and waving one hand before she bid her farewell to the group and walked over to join Moira.

"They have offered me a place at their infirmary," she told her, "I would surely love to spend time helping them as much as I can."

Moira nodded her agreement. "I agree."

Angela thought about something for a moment and she took Moira's hands in hers. The older woman glanced down at them briefly, smiling just a fraction before she spoke.

"When I woke up, I thought last night had been a dream," she said.

Angela's look was clouded in thought. She seemed to agree with that. "Yes. I was afraid you'd drift away at any moment..."

Her tone was softer, but her eyes were sad. It made Moira look away, unsure of whether or not she wanted to see that look. She had to understand what had happened and why it happened the way it did. Perhaps it hadn't spared them of their emotional pain, but they were here now.

"Well, I understand it has been difficult," Moira agreed, "But we are here now."

Angela smiled and slipped her arms around Moira's waist. "That we are."

She leaned up on her tiptoes for a kiss, to which Moira obliged. It took only a few moments before they heard a chorus of giggles and sounds from the watching children behind them. Moira opened one eye, raised an eyebrow and parted, staring at Angela with mild embarrassment. The younger woman simply laughed and shook her head, not quite as put off by the laughter. She gently placed two hands against Moira's shoulders and leaned into her.

"Would you like to continue your shopping?" Angela asked.

Moira nodded her head, rolling her eyes at the scattered, lingering laughter. "And afterwards?"

"I'd like to go home with you."

Moira certainly wanted that.

They walked away and Angela glanced down, taking Moira's hand in hers. She smiled when she realized that they held the same body temperature. She could smell emotions in Moira - relief, adoration and happiness. She could dare say that her change benefited her in this way.

There was no way to tell what the future would bring for both of them. But now they were happy.


End file.
